Redwall: War of the Four Banners

by PepperDeadSworn

"Young as autumn, old as summer, from sea to forest the cries of war shall come Four armies, one outcome, in ruin you shall find the truth Look to the place of my rest, for friend shall be foe, and foe shall be friend." A epic tale of Redwall in which four great factions battle for the fate of Mossflower itself.

42. He who Opposes is a Corpse

Chapter 41: He who Opposes is a Corpse

General Gosland was on the creaky walls of Palewind, looking out at the approaching Southsward host coming towards them. Gosland was a little nervous of course, it had been awfully silent since the army made it clear it was heading towards him. Gosland was a busy beast, having his woodlander army build tents, structures, and defenses all around the smaller fortress. With the aid and permission from the badger officer Balon, the otter had set to work turning a small fortress into a proper war camp. He put his paws behind his back, and still remained nervous. He hoped he was up to par, wondering in an overly concerned way his peers would mock him if he set up the camp in some way he didn't foresee.

"So. Whatcha dinken about der, river dog." a feminine and rough voice spoke from behind him.

Gosland groaned and turned to face the mercenary who had been tapping her paws and pacing about the war camp for some time. The ferret mercenary Toila Longspear remained looking at him in a bored tone, and had been nothing but trouble for him. He looked to her side, noticing she still held a small knife to her pockets "I thought I told you to remove all of your weapons, vermin. My patience for you is limited as it is!"

Toila mouthed the otter's command in a mocking tone, going as far to open and shut her paw like a puppet. The ferretess climbed the wall and looked out, smiling and looking rather impressed at the encroaching army "Oh, dats a big one! Ya southerners really brought all dis just to fight Gandal an his stupid lot?"

Gosland growled "Your weapon, mis."

"Ya can have it when we be goin, I ain't disarmen meself fer your sake, water dog."

"And will you stop calling me that!" Gosland fumed. His patience was at an edge with the ferretess and her mercenaries, and really all the vermin here. She was perhaps the worst, a thief who encouraged her vermin to steal from his soldiers, bully them even, and he had to be constantly called to break up potential worse situations. The Mink brothers, foreign as they were, had been rowdy and constantly bothered him and his captains for 'drinks and jobs', and seemed to never understand much else. The fox archer, who seemingly had more than once tried to just walk off, had to be dragged back and kept under a much more heavy watch. Toila seemed to almost enjoy her game at pushing Gosland's buttons, with her sniffing the air and seeming uptight as usual "Balon says I gotta stay fer whatever reason, an ya keep me here. First I be dinken dat is a problem, ya know? Yet, I bet yer prince pays a big fortune fer real warriors, eh?"

Toila had some awareness of Gosland's commanders, something which the otter himself could only grind his teeth on "That depends on Frankfort and his mood, and if you continue to remain in such a poor taste of obedience, you and your wretches will be kept under lock and key! Now please!" Gosland pushed his paws forward, demanding Toila's knife. In some way, he suspected the ferretess to refuse, push him more, but the mercenary only rolled her eyes and took her knife and gave it to the otter with a warning "Dat be me pa's knife, water dog. Don't ya go stealen it, ya hear? Why all dis distrust anyway?"

"You're vermin. To us, your just another enemy. Captain Balon seems to think lowly of you, but finds you and your fellow mercenaries rather tame in comparison to a much more ferocious and evil beast." Gosland said in a chilly manner. Toila again was mouthing off to the otter, uninterested in his views of her. "Ya acten like ya never even seen a ferret befer, let alone a bleeden rat."

Gosland was silent to this comment, because in all honesty it was true. He looked out over at the approaching army, and could see couriers and runners coming to greet him. He got down from the walls, but found that Toila was following him.

"Ya know, water dog, ya be acten like we be foes, when I've been fighten dat stupid ol' Blackclad fer a lot longer den ya have."

"Balon doesn't seem to think so." Gosland grunted, annoyed by her insistence to annoy him "In fact, he thinks you would have joined him if we didn't keep you here."

"Only if he be payen." Toila said in a sly tone. She liked how Gosland would cope and seethe in private, frustrated in not being able to do much against her out of some woodlander's honor she had no respect for. As the two walked out, Gosland looked up to the sky when he heard a faint whistling noise. From the sky, swooping down towards him was a smaller red bird which flew close to him and was panting. Toila gave it an odd look, the bird was wrapped in a yellowish sash with a blue emblem depicting wings surrounding a scroll, his head topped with a yellow beret and his neck adorned with a gilded choker. Gosland looked to this bird with relief and spoke up to him.

"Quesmer! You look exhausted, I was hoping-"

"No time! Frankfort, Gosland-" The bird began to huff as he landed and looked up to the otter with a terrified look. At first, Gosland thought the bird was frightened of the vermin beside him, but as the courier spoke he was clearly in a panicked mood.

"Frankfort, he did something, learned not too long ago! Kelsum Hare! He needs to see you right away, Black Twitch, Hares-"

"Quesmer! Please, calm down. Shape up and tell me what happened." Gosland knelt down to them as Toila pretended to back away, but listened on in. The panicked bird spoke in a terrible tone, unable to speak of the terrible events that transpired. "Long Patrol, ambush! Ambush troops on the way to Palewind! Frankfort, he-Kelsum Hare needs to see you, General! General Kelsum sends me, fears of not understanding, Quesmer don't understand myself! Oh, terrible, evil thing has happened, I-"

Toila interrupted "Long Patrol? Ya sure?"

The bird looked to the vermin with a lopsided look, but Gosland growled at her to get her to back away. The songbird answered regardless "Yes, yes! Long Patrol Hares, attack our armies!"

Gosland got up and ordered his courier about "Quesmer, you need rest. Go and find my sister and tell my captains to meet me near the entrance of the camp, I'll go see what is happening. Then I order you to rest in your nest, good friend."

The bird nodded and flew off as Gosland hurried off. Toila reluctantly followed, grappling with what she heard. She wondered why the Long Patrol would attack fellow woodlanders, or why the bird looked so nervous and frightened. However, there was something also gnawing at her mind. Need to gather der boys an' leave befer dis gets ugly. If der is a horde in der north, we gotta head to it as soon as we can, maybe get paid well fer the information on what's goin on down here an' den scram eastward.

Toila thought she'd get to go and see Gosland off into the distance and she could get to look at the army more fully. Yet, when she got to the construction site for an inner camp gate, she was forced to pause. She wasn't alone herself, with Jurnal and his brothers nearby also looking on with concerned interest. The three Minks were in their weird armor, although now lacking their weapons and shields. Gosland stopped at the foot of the gate, and was facing a very tired squirrel in a golden armor.

"Prince Frankfort, my liege." Gosland began and stood at attention, his paws going behind his back. Frankfort wasn't alone, with the hare Lars and the generals Kelsum and Nosbub arguing with one another.

"My liege, we should have done this more privately, Nosbub speak reason to them both!"

"No need, good Kelsum." The Black Twitch shook his head, followed by a nasty flick of his jaw "I am more then certain our dear greener Gosland will be more then quick to fall in line, eh Gosland?"

The otter looked confused, as he was soon joined by his own curious captains. Frankfort held up his paw as all looked to him to speak. "Commander, are the hares here elsewhere I presume?"

"Well, yes, they are all in the main fortress itself."

Frankfort spoke in a low voice "Lars, make sure they don't resist. Nosbub shall assist you."

Gosland looked as the Lars and Nosbub gathered up some troops, marching up to the main fortress itself in a silent manner. Gosland was speechless, wanting to stammer out a response as his usual officer's stance faltered as he realized that Lars and Nosbub were going to arrest his supposed allies. He turned to Kelsum, looking for understanding, but only got a stranger frown from him. Frankfort spoke up "I apologize for the sudden haste, General Gosland, but we have little time. In the name of Southsward and good beasts everywhere, we need to have a meeting to discuss our new situation. I am tired, and the recent march down here has left him famished."

Frankfort looked behind Gosland, his calmer demeanor boiled into an anger as he looked to his general "Commander, what is that vermin doing out and about!?"

"My lord?" Gosland finally spoke up and looked at Toila who was instinctively putting her paw to her side, only to realize a bit too late she had no longer any weapons. "It is a mercenary, along with others, who were brought here to the fort by the badger Balon. They aren't mine-"

Frankfort huffed and motioned some of his soldiers to him. He pointed to Toila "Grab them, put them in binds and we'll deal with them more properly later. Gosland, with your permission of course, I want your captains to begin building a large stockade near the camp for prisoners. We'll need the space."

Toila was about to speak up, but a bunch of otters and hares descended on her as she fought and screamed "Off of me, ya bleeding treasonous fools! Off of me!"

As Toila kicked and yelped, Jurnal was approached by the other soldiers next. The three brothers gave up far more peacefully, knowing they had been had. Gosland would have had sympathy for them has not Toila bothered him so much. Frankfort asked if there were any others, and Gosland meekly replied "Yes, a fox and some of that vermin's fellows. My lord, I am not understanding any of this. What is happening? Why did the Long Patrol ambush you, was it-"

Frankfort cut him off "I will explain it soon, but know our army is very tired, exhausted, and wants to camp. Walk with me, General Gosland. We have much to discuss."
_

Balon wasn't really sure if he should be surprised or not. He had at first been with the hares in the fort, watching the main army begin encamping at the base of Palewind's newfound walls, practically a settlement in his eyes. He swore he spotted vermin amongst the mix of them, unpacking supplies, but he thought perhaps the vermin in Southsward were tame. That thought made him sigh, cause he really wished for his own sake and the sake of others he'd be done with vermin forever once Southsward dealt with them. Instead, a number of Southsward soldiers bursted into the fort and began to take weapons from the Long Patrol hares and be arrested. The whole ordeal was messy and filled with yelling, but Balon knew he couldn't fight them, wondering if there had been some manner of mistake.

Then he figured it was just very bad luck.

Balon sat on the floor of a large tent which was a part of various tents set up for prisoners. His paws were bound behind his back by rope, since the Southsward folk couldn't find shackles large enough to fit him. Balon sat across from the shadow whom wore his commander's face, as Numbat languished in his shackles, looking at the ground and meakly informing him of what was happening. Balon couldn't believe what he heard, he was utterly shocked and horrified as Numbat explained what had happened from Marshreed all the way to what had happened in the forests. Balon was silent, unsure of what even to say as his commander finished up his stories.

"And that, Balon, is why the seasons have cursed me so." Numbat said in an attempt to try be a bit more optimistic, but even to himself, he couldn't help but frown.

Balon blinked and relaxed a bit, saddened by the news and finally spoke up "Daen in still out there then? He's a good hare, a great commander. If he can't establish an effective resistance, I know of no beast who will. Seasons preserve us. What manner of madness makes beasts become like. Like-"

"Vermin." Numbat finished his sentence, he looked to the flap of the tent and frowned heavily. Balon shook his head "The Oranges weren't exactly the most tame family, you had no idea what was going to happen."

"Yet it happened, and the beasts who knew it would happen allowed it." Numbat began to seethe and looked to Balon "That creature, that 'hare', the black one who kept twitching. I don't know how, or why, but he is intent on pushing these creatures in harsh ways. He and that mouse both, that 'scholar'. Rubbish, wot. I'm not one to be pitying vermin all things considered, but Balon, those creatures out there. They are enslaved, and now I fear we only pushed this group further off the edge."

Balon spoke up to him "Sir, this isn't your fault."

"Is it not?" Numbat snapped back "I was ordered to pursue Gandal and his horde down here, to wipe him out. We didn't hurry to do this, we built Palewind for military operations. My delay led to the death of one great hero of Mossflower, and now that accursed mole blames me for all his troubles. His unholy alliance with that squirrel gives them legitimacy. Under my watch, Nurf was left unchecked, and now we can't even reinforce Naus and his forces in fighting another vermin force. I can only hope to try to fix my failings, but I doubt I will ever live to regret it more deeply then I do now."

Balon was shocked as the broken hare slumped at the side of the tent, his ears flopping down and looking less and less like the officer he had come to respect. Now, he could do nothing but pity him and try to comfort him "Sir, this is far from your fault. Don't take on Gandal or Nurf's evils as your own."

"Balon." Numbat looked up at him as Balon silenced himself. Numbat spoke in a simple manner "There is no need for comforts, for we are too far gone for hope. Frankfort is beyond madness now, his delusions lead to the death of my hares. Now all I can do is wait either for my own end, or for Daen to pull a miracle."

Balon tried to joke "Or for Gandal to do something."

Numbat gave a rare smile despite his grim situation, he had nearly forgotten the reason why they were here. "Oh, if there is anything good from any of this, Balon, then it is knowing Gandal will be screaming his tail off fleeing! Curse me for wishing death on him and Nurf. Seasons certainly have a sick sense of humer?"

Balon nodded and both relaxed a bit more in their bonds, but the tent flap opened and coming inside was Lars. The black armored warrior stood inside the tent, looking down at the two with clear contempt, but he seemed to have a reason to be there as he spoke up to a silent Numbat "Get up, Frankfort wants to see you."

"Oh?" Numbat said in a snarky tone "The Prince and murderling wants me now? Can't he wait for the bleeding trial to take my head?"

Lars gritted his teeth "It isn't like that you insufferable traitor. He wants information on villages, towns, or whatever the hells you have here. Resources and what not. You can do your country at least one bleeding favor and may even stay you from the chopping block by being cooperative."

Numbat gave a dark gaze to Lars and grunted "Kill me or not, there is nothing you'll get from me now. Your Prince made a terrible choice, and I won't reward it with information. If that show of barbarism was to intimidate me, now I've seen and known far worse."

Lars kicked the hare a bit softly, clearly annoyed with him. Balon only watched, keeping his mouth shut up until Lars looked like he was going to get forceful. "Brave of civilized beasts to punch down, hare."

"You will be silent." Lars shot back a furious look at Balon. "It is bad enough that Frankfort now thinks you have been caught red pawed having diplomatic talks with those vermin we now hold in the camp. Frankfort is still deciding your fate, and frankly I am the only thing standing between you and a swift end."

Balon gave him a confused look "We just met, what the hell did I do?"

Lars tried to explain, although he felt a bit embarrassed to say it "Our scholar Shackleford believes you badgers and those from Salamadastron are purposefully arming and supplying the vermin with weapons to keep the beasts here in ignorance and poverty. So when we come into this place you have the gall to call a 'fort', seeing vermin soldiers walking around so unsupervised, it paints a dark picture."

Balon's face contorted, unsure of what to even say. He was dumbfounded as he looked to Numbat for help, but he only gave him a sad look. Numbat then spoke up to Lars "Do you truly believe that? I am sure for my own sanity that you do not."

"I don't know what to believe, but your actions in that bleeding forest makes me think far less of you." Lars growled "If it wasn't obvious enough your marksbeasts had arrows trained on my liege lord and friend! Such blatant attempts at assassination."

"Assassination? Because of what the Oranges tried to do?" Balon questioned him, but Lars responded in kind "Yes, assassination. We were told you needed to kick the vermin out of southern Mossflower, and we were stopped in the road by vermin under this beast's subordinate's command!"

"A surprise it is that not all vermin we deal with are horde beasts we fight." Numbat chided him. Lars only responded by kicking him more harshly. Balon squinted at him in anger, but made a realization when he noticed that Numbat didn't seem to be all too angry with him. Balon then asked.

"You have your doubts, don't you?"

Lars was silent, but admitted to him "I don't know. I truly don't. Esmert's interference, bringing that exact beast to be punished all the way up to the front like that. Frankfort and I talked about it, but he wasn't much listening as he was nursing Samkon as they took out his eye. Things have calmed now, and I wanted to talk to him again about what had happened, cause i think he acted a bit too harshly-"

"Harshly?" Numbat said in a defeated and low voice, bordering on a boiling fury within him. "Harshly is not what happened, hare. Your prince, your 'friend', murdered my hares."

"Your hares nearly murdered my prince." Lars gave a cold remark "Don't think I'll shed much of a tear for those who demand we aid them, only to try to kill us in turn. Had Frankfort been calmer, or more accurately, had your hares not tried to kill him then we wouldn't be in this situation. Now please, I don't wish to keep him waiting."

Numbat shook his head "I apologize then, you'll have to kill me."

Lars gripped the handle of his golden rapier in a threatening way, but Numbat didn't seem at all intimidated. "I'm not afraid of dying, nor of whatever torture you can give. I am Long Patrol, not some fledgling fool. I won't give you the information you desire, nor will any of my har-"

"Well, then this is going to be bleeding awkward." A more familiar voice shot up and entered the tent with a swagger. Lars stood aside as Balon and Numbat looked shocked and turned their full attention to Terrance von Blumber walk on through, dusting off his uniform now covered in a yellow sash. The proud hare took up his bow and leaned on it, looking down with smug pride at his former commander and giving an almost wide grin. Numbat was surprised, but he didn't feel angry.

"Lead Ranger Terrance." Lars said in an annoyed tone "Just that mole vouched for you, doesn't mean you can-"

"I had to see it for myself, though sad to see you all tied up there Balon."

Balon was silent, seeing the rash hare seem almost proud of his betrayal. "Oh, it's hard to keep any form of excitement, good Lars. If you need help with this one, you have my aid if you so wish."

Numbat only gave a frown to his former subordinate, but he didn't need to ask why. Lars raised a paw to Terrance "That won't be necessary. Isn't there somewhere you have to be?"

"Not yet, not before I say my piece." Terrance looked down at Numbat, clearly having held back his spite of him "There is a lot of things I want to say to you 'Colonel', if you won't help these creatures in putting down Nurf and his band of murderers, then I certainly will. Lars, whatever this idiot knows, I know much better. You won't be needing him. When we are done collecting vermin heads of Nurf and Gandal, I'll be counting each and every single day it took me being in charge of getting results. A number of hares, I thought you should know, had quite a few agreements with me. The badger lord be damned, if these beasts can do a much better job in dealing with these vermin, I am giving them a good chance!"

Numbat didn't answer for a long time, staring up at an angry Terrance, his long seasons frustrated in hunting Nurf and his band of evil beasts. Yet, he was undeserving of his pity as Numbat continued to frown and speak up to him "Terrance, I pray you can forgive yourself for what you will do to those poor hares and beasts you will damn in your tantrum to find Nurf. Any blood spilled will no longer be on my paws."

Terrance flicked his whiskers and anger and wanted to speak back, but he shook his head in disgust and stormed out. Lars looked down to Numbat and tried to make his offer again "It will look better if you spoke to Frankfort first."

"I may be a failure in many regards." Numbat spoke in a terrible tone "Yet I won't be undignified."

Lars sighed and left as well, leaving Balon and Numbat to grapple with their new found world. Numbat held back a tear, having only the limited imagination to even know what manner of evil which now spread from Palewind and consumed all of southern Mossflower in its terrible grasp.
_

Perla Streambattle and Ginny von Bulbstrike were outside the office of the Long Patrol barracks in Palewind, now converted into a Southsward command post. Perla was anxious, constantly pacing back and forth in the fort and seemingly lost in terrible thought. She was only informed by Ginny, terrified and broken herself by what had happened, and was still in a disbelieving mode.

"I mean, Ginny, this is insane! Arresting our own allies, executing them without as much as a trial! Hares! Oh, what the hell had happened!" Ginny was loud, her soldiers who were nearby were nervous as Ginny only stood in silence. Frankfort and his general were inside, and had been for some time. They stood there, unaware of Kelsum von Bulbstrike watching from the windows and staring out at them as he was listening in on Frankfort and Gosland's conversation which happened behind him.

Gosland was shocked to learn what happened, and had not said a word as Frankfort explained all that had happened to him. Shackleford stood nearby, looking about at the building he was in with childlike amazement. Nosbub stood sneering in a corner as Frankfort's advisors kept a silent and worried look. Gosland simply listened as Frankfort finished up his stories, his reasoning, and his excuses.

"In all, Gosland, that is what has happened. I know this is much to take in all at once. I apologize for being so silent in getting to you, but our march here was much needed."

Gosland finally spoke up "My lord, this event in the forest. Was it truly necessary to have them killed? The Long Patrol?"

Frankfort was about to answer, but Nosbub did first as he chastised the otter "Of course, General Gosland. They are a hostile force, who attacked your prince and murdered Southsward soldiers on order! These are dangerous prisoners already, even just allowing one of those creatures in our camp is quite a fool's move. This 'Terrance' will need to be watched."

"This hero of Mossflower has vouched for them, and it is good enough for me." Frankfort gave a warning glare to the Black Twitch who silenced himself. He returned his attention to Gosland who wasn't very sure. Gosland seemed utterly sick almost with what he heard, barely able to handle his own heart which ached at the very thought. Gosland spoke up again "Sir, these actions, I don't know if they were-" Gosland shaped himself up, realizing his rank when he spoke to Frankfort "Apologies, these things trouble me so. Shackleford. You say that these hares and badgers are truly our enemy?"

"Not in a normal case, but yes." Shackleford turned around to him, giving a wide frown "It's hard for even more to comprehend, but I must for all of our sakes. My theories have all pointed to only one conclusion, that the Badger Lords of Mossflower are in truth what I am coming to call 'Verminus Tyranis', or a Vermin Intelligence. Tyrant. The Badgers have long been accused of what is called 'bloodwrath', but no such thing clearly exists in the realms of science and reason. I had thought 'what exactly is bloodwrath, and if it doesn't exist, what does it entail?' It can only mean one thing, the badgers are secretly vermin themselves, a theory I have long harbored but I now have proof of here! Gosland, finding vermin with these badgers, mercenaries or not, only proves a diplomacy between them. No doubt this 'Gandal' isn't the real warlord, but rather a beast like this 'Balon' is."

Kelsum turned at long last to this, unable to bear it much longer "Shackleford, I'd beg you to speak with reason rather than this nonsense. These are bleeding woodlanders we speak of."

"Yes, that is what we have all thought." Shackleford continued "But why do badgers have large flesh-rending teeth? Why do eaters of meat, designed to eat meat, to kill and devour living beasts, continue to pretend otherwise? I know you are intelligent in military matters, but please, leave such thoughts to me."

Kelsum was about to speak up, but Gosland nodded along "I suppose it makes sense from a number of perspectives, good mouse."

Shackleford smiled "I am glad you have agreements, Gosland. The badgers, as I point out, are clearly supplying an entire opposing species who cannot produce on their own with the weapons and intelligence to build up a 'horde', a collection of various bandits and evil beasts to torment and destroy good beasts, locking this land in perpetual poverty for them to control. For what reason it is certainly obvious, to guard their superstitious legacy! It is clear these vermin do not have the normal intelligence as you or I, but we do hope we can wean them away from their old behaviors and embrace ones which are more of a service to better woodlander lives."

All the beasts in that room seemed to think this was intelligible, all except Nosbub who held his tongue. He knew what the mouse had truly meant, and what it would mean to their prisoners, but he didn't wish to ruin such dreams for the old mouse.

"Shackleford, your suggestions, is there proof?" Kelsum tried to reason with him, but the mouse seemed ever prepared "Oh, of course I do, just look around you. Look at these poor habitats these 'Long Patrol' build for themselves, is this a barracks or a future vermin fort? Those vermin who were here, no doubt future enemies who would have been sent to test our mettle. We have upended the old order, and the badger lord sends out a predictable force to try to put us down, to scare us off. We have not done so, and thus we upset the cycle of atrocity."

Shackleford was quite proud of naming his recent work's title into his sentence as Gosland nodded along and agreed "It was strange the badger brought in mercenaries, but knowing there is a larger enemy force out in Mossflower, no doubt we came across their operations."

Nosbub chimed in "Exactly. General Kelsum, is there something else you wish to interrupt, or can we get on with out meeting?"

Kelsum was silent and came over to the table, his paws retreating behind his back as he stared at Gosland. He couldn't help frown as the otter took such authority from the scholar, but Frankfort spoke up "I know what we are doing is not the most moral, Gosland. Nor is it the most easy course, considering what we originally came here to do. In that forest, we all swore an oath to free Mossflower from tyranny. At first we thought it vermin, but clearly its also from these beings we once looked up to so dearly. The Long Patrol are now as much our enemy as this Gandal or Nurf is. Gosland, if you so wish, you and your sister may leave back to Southsward, and I will not hold it against you. I will only ask you to leave your command intact, for we'll need the 3rd Army."

Gosland paused and stared at Frankfort and didn't really know what to say. He wanted to speak up, but he spoke up on his own accord. "Sir, I am more than happy to continue as your commander. If it will keep Mossflower safe, I will swear this army to your cause."

Nosbub frowned a bit, but Frankfort smiled. The prince arose and looked around at his war council. "I am glad you are with us, General Gosland. I know this isn't easy for you."

Gosland spoke up, his chin held high as he took an officer's stance "My lord, our cause was just from the start. For Southsward and all good beasts, we will beat back the vermin no matter who rules them." Gosland tried to give a fake smile, which only made Frankfort more happy. It was clear Gosland had some manner of trouble with understanding all this, but the reasons he stayed was clear. He turned his head to Shackleford who seemed to congratulate the otter "Quite a smart lad, good Gosland."

On cue, Terrance and Lars came into the room with the former Long Patrol giving a loud salute as Lars took his place at Frankfort's side. The squirrel looked up to Lars whom silently nodded at him and motioned him to be courteous with Terrance.

"I had asked for the one called Numbat, I am glad you are with us Terrance, but-"

"You won't have need of him, my lord." Terrance said quite proudly. He went behind the prince and kicked open a chest, and brought out various scrolls of maps, terrain features, and notes and placed them on the table. He quickly unfurled maps, as he explained "What Numbat knows, I know as well, and I have been out in the field far more than he has."

Frankfort blinked, as his tactical advisor Guil looked over the maps. "Truly, there is only one road?"

"Yes." Terrance said sadly "It hasn't been in good repair, but most villages are connected by more traveled roads and smaller routes. I am aware you folks have far better infrastructure."

Frankfort nodded "A mistake we will correct once this war is over. I thank you, hare. You will help us map out this region."

"I will do more, when we go after Nurf and Gandal both." Terrance said in a darker tone. Guil nodded approvingly "Our home region here will need stability, and the villages brought under Southsward banners. Like in the Bagon Forest campaigns, we will need to fan out with troops, establish garrisons, but we will need to do more so than that my lord."

Vergber spoke up, the army's logistics adviser being a bit more grim "More than that indeed. We have no supply line back to the capital since we suspected the locals to provide, which may not be the full case. We will need to trade for food and set up a public grainery which will be easy for me since we are starting from scratch, but it will take time. This of course also has another problem, the one major concern I have. The vermin themselves."

Frankfort raised an eyebrow to this and asked "The vermin?"

The hedgehog adviser gave a shallow gulp, something which Nosbub noticed. Nosbub had figured that of the advisers, Vergber was the most uncertain of the whole ordeal in the forest, as the hedgehog had to try to bring reason to the table "This talk of badgers and hares my lord, if we are to stay, we have consider our dwindling logistics. We have many luxuries we brought with us, but they will run out. The vermin are clearly in large numbers here, and I hope our resident scholar on Vermin will agree they are neutral?"

Vergber frowned when Shackleford shot it down "Neutral in terms of not being aligned yet to a common intelligence. 'Yet' being the key word, which is why we must try to null their sense of violence and evil via hard work and example. Yet, what you say is true, the vermin are in quite a large number, a discovery I can only deduce that a larger horde was in the early stages of formation in this land, as we saw at Marshreed. They may not be of this Gandal or Nurf's hordes just yet, but they will join in mass if left to their own devices."

Vergber was about to ask for something more reasonable, his line of thinking was to gather the vermin families and chiefs, offer them reasonable serf contracts and wages and send them to work in fields under some watch. It would have been a fair arrangement, an arrangement in the past which worked with the old forest petty kingdoms which now is a part of Southsward today. Yet, what the mouse implied meant such an idea would never work, and instead the mood of Frankfort would be the wholesale slaughter of these bandits. Yet, he had to try to put in some reason.

"I mean, we could offer them the Bellmaker's Contract my lord, offer serfdom for services to farmsteads we need to put to work building our food stores and keeping a stabilized camp for three armies."

Terrance laughed out loud, unable to contain himself "A vermin willingly farm? I'd love to see it!"

Shackleford chuckled as well, who nodded in agreement "My good hedgehog, I know it is tempting to think of these beasts as equal to us in intelligence, but these beasts are below such possibilities. I do agree with your good logic, because I was thinking this as well. These vermin are still living beasts, but we cannot treat them as such, they only respond to violence and intimidation. They respect death, but we do not. Although I'd say we must deal with the most violent amongst them, we must think of their children and innocents who had not killed or caused the most serious harm. We should offer a new contract, one which we must sadly force on them, where they must be taught our ways but also to be obedient and fearful of us, otherwise they may fall back into their dark tendencies. Wouldn't you agree we need to put them to work, but under more studious care? Care of which only they would possibly respond to?"

Vergber and Kelsum looked stunned, for what the humble and studious scholar had suggested wasn't serfdom.

"My good Shackleford, are you saying, we should force them to work for us?" Kelsum's tone dropped.

"Do we not do that already?" Frankfort spoke up. Shackleford looked shocked himself and fumbled his speech "Oh well, of course not, I would never imply we do something so low! Especially in front of our allies here! I am merely suggesting the honest truth, for their sake as much as ours. Surely you are better at logistics then I, I am simply stating a simple fact that these beasts need commands, or they will return to savagery. They must be forced to learn our ways, and what better way is there then in Southsward's army? Aren't our bravest troops the most professional and obedient in all of the country?"

Frankfort looked to Vergber who looked at him in fear. Vergber spoke up eventually, agreeing in an enthusiastic and rushed tone. He didn't want to make Frankfort angry, and was in truth quite scared of that squirrel. "W-well, perhaps introducing them to serfdom isn't what I truly meant, my lord, b-but Shackleford is perhaps right. I do not wish them harm of course, but what I am suggesting is that if we want to stay in this country, we need supplies my lord."

Frankfort nodded "Of course, we are an army, not teachers. I believe I have a solution. General Nosbub, you and your division will gather up the captains and send out beasts to secure the villages surrounding Palewind, and establish garrisons against both the vermin and Long Patrol trickery. General Kelsum and Gosland will stay behind and help set up camp, and prepare for a campaign against Gandal. We will send out forces to gather the surrounding vermin, and bring them here."

Gosland seemed a bit troubled and spoke up "My lord, bring them here? All of them?"

"Yes, good Gosland." Shackleford spoke to him in a kind voice "It is for their own good, we need to teach them in the hopes they can be saved from themselves."

Guil responded "I am certain Vergber would be more privy to this, but sending out captains to capture prisoners will be time consuming, and for a purpose I am not familiar with my lord. It would bloat out supply issues."

Frankfort was at a loss for a moment, frozen with inaction until Lars spoke up for him upon seeing his state. It wasn't often when he was speechless, as his father would always be quick with a speech or retort, something he couldn't truly get the best handle on. "As a captain of Southsward, I must advise my lord that our mission must come first. We can't save them all."

Shackleford nodded in agreement "I must say, that is a most excellent point, my good noble. The vermin, sadly, can be far too tainted to save. We vetted those in the camp already to make sure the most evil and deranged have been removed, but we cannot taint them further by reintroducing stronger bandits into the ranks, even by accident. Younger vermin I believe can be saved, my lord, but those who have taken lives or live a warrior's life I fear we are far too late to teach."

Frankfort was about to nod in agreement till Kelsum spoke up "What about those vermin 'mercenaries' in the camp, my lord? They may have taken lives, but not woodlander lives. Gosland, that stranger vermin, the one in the more respectable armor, he was quite agreeable, don't you think? My lord, I don't wish to intrude much on this thinking, we are here to fight vermin afterall, but-"

"Kelsum, I do hope you are not defending these 'vermin', cause we all know these creatures are aligned in some way with these Long Patrol." Nosbub butted in. Lars shot him an angry look, but the Black Twitch continued to speak up "My lord, these vermin as Shackleford says are likely in the employ of these new found enemies. While some may have been more agreeable, let us not dwell on their deceptions."

Gosland looked to Shackleford, as the mouse spoke up in further reluctant agreement "These vermin, my lord, we must recognize their stupidity as much as their evil nature. They are prone to evil. They have no concept of honesty, and thus anything even our own in this camp say should be taken with a grain of salt. Yet, these vermin are likely no different, I would say the more hostile one that was dragged away is the least dishonest, as they did not suspect to be captured! Sadly, as much as it pains me to say it, I fear they are all beyond saving."

"My lord." Kelsum interrupted with a higher tone of voice, his annoyance with the scholar was now growing clearer "At least give them a trial before we start talking about executing them! These creatures have done us no wrong yet, but we can at least give them some manner of dignity, not just for their sake but for ourselves."

Frankfort shot a rare angry glare to Kelsum, somewhat insulted that the hare would dare speak against such truths. Yet, he shook this feeling away when Lars spoke up as well "Those who have taken lives we will hang, but not every bleeding warrior takes a life. The rest, we should spare after a thorough interrogation, one which me and Gosland will lead. Since, of course, you have had far more experience with them."

Shackleford wanted to speak up, but an annoyed Frankfort spoke first "Fine, then it is settled. Once the camp is finished and the area secured, we will establish garrisons and then march against this Gandal at long last. I must take some time to rest, for it has been a very long day thus far. Dismissed."

Kelsum and Gosland were the last to leave as Frankfort and his company left the structure to go do their respective tasks. Frankfort was quick in his steps to go to the medical tents where his bodyguard was resting, followed by Lars. Guil and Vergber discussed with a quiet and clearly annoyed Nosbub, more interested in resting in his own tent than going about his tasks. Shackleford left and made his way to the walls, looking out over the camp and thinking on what was said.

When Kelsum and Gosland left, they had to pause when they spotted Ginny and Perla who gave a mixed stare back at them, not sure how to approach themselves. Kelsum looked to Gosland who looked somewhat embarrassed.

"My Ginny, I fear she will be trouble for me if we continue on like this. Yet your sister looks like she will be more so." He whispered.

"I know." Gosland sighed "Frankfort should have kept this all secret, no doubt word is spreading among my own soldiers about what happened, and even I still don't fully understand it still. Frankfort can't speak to them all, and I have no clue where to even begin. Oh, what a mess, Kelsum. Yet, for the sake of all good beasts we must persist."

"Indeed." Kelsum approached the two first. As he spoke in a hushed and cold tone to them both, Perla arguing with him, the otter gave a frown. It was going to be a very long, and difficult day indeed.
_

Frankfort sat in his large yellow tent, practically a small house of a great, luxurious traveler from a far away land. In his tent sat a decently sized small table for which he placed upon a mug of warm tea. He sat on cushions, lounging about in his more comfortable night time tunic of silver lined robes, and his royal seal adorning his neck by a long chain. He was the very picture of nobility, the golden son of Southsward. He gave a wide smile, as across from him sat Shackleford and his studious rabbit assistant Horst Branderbub. Horst was mostly silent, but kept up his note taking. Shackleford calmly kept a small cup of tea in his paw, continuing his philosophical quandaries with Southsward's golden child.

"As you can imagine, my lord, the whole subject of vermin interested me not as a morbid curiosity, but as a genuine concern for both our well being and theirs. Even I must admit they are still conscious beings, who can feel in some capacity, but have such a warped view of the reality around them, that they cannot truly be considered 'sentient' by normal means. It is hard to explain, good Frankfort. It is like certain birds, or lizards even, whose intelligence is so questionable that they cannot be considered equal by any measure."

Frankfort nodded in agreement, and how couldn't he. He was haunted by what he saw in Banzlow. He couldn't imagine a people so violent in his life, not even the lizards of the endless marshes to the south were so vile. "You think they are too tained, Shackleford?"

Shackleford had to give pause to think, before nodding in a sad way "i fear so, good sir. It is not like us, where taking another beast's life is a terrible act, but we do it solely out of our own defense or to save others. Vermin take lives as if it were as common as breathing. I wanted to speak up before about that. I fear that if we allow one of those villains to remain alive, they may tempt those in the camp to their way of thinking. The best way I can only imagine we can retain control and teach these poor beasts is to restrict them utterly from their most violent kin."

Frankfort nodded again in agreement. Shackleford spoke up again as he took another sip of his tea "Of those we have in the camp, I must say many have taken on our customs and rules quite well, as to be sadly suspected."

"Sadly?" Frankfort raised an eyebrow. The scholar grinned and explained in a condescending tone "Oh, yes. Most sadly. Vermin are, as I have studied, are completely despondent, nulled even, of the concept of honesty. They take on the customs and beliefs in a dishonest fashion, but will immediately return to their old ways if we were to let them go right now. I theorize that through strict control via our military apparatus, we can swim them to the concepts we are more familiar with, such as empathy and being closer to a regular family unit! I talked with General Nosbub about this, and we have some ideas."

Frankfort listened closely with somewhat awe of the scholar's knowledge, having given over to listening to his advice within the reasonable limits of his own authority.

"I believe the vermin are unique in their hierarchical views, being both unable to conceive of a structure of governance we are used to. I believe we should enforce family units, spare the families as we can, but enforce values and norms on them. Cleaning them up, forcing them to wash and comb their fur, and dress correctly are all icing on the cake that is their transformation! I theorize, no. I know! I know that if we break down certain family units and their ways, we can perhaps wean them from their suicidal paths in life. Perhaps such as enforcing a more matriarchal or patriarchal set of beliefs."

Frankfort gave the mouse a funny look, as Shackleford tried to explain a bit better "I know its an odd word to use, but vermin truly do only respond to strong authority figures. Normal beasts like ourselves have evolved far past such things, but we will need to enforce a new set of conditions and norms for them to obey and look up to. Relegate the male beasts to harder work for instance, and female beasts to cooking, cleaning, and child rearing. If they are in a dominant mood amongst themselves, with an overseeing beast lording over them, in theory they should progress to the next phase of civilization."

"I see, though it does seem very archaic." Frankfort noted. "I can perhaps see what Nosbub and his captain Esmert thinks of this, since he is the chief drill master of Nosbub's army. That fool hedgehog has my ire, but perhaps if he takes your advice to heart and we see good progress on the vermin civilizing, I can forgive him for that fool show in the forest."

Another mouse opened the flap of the tent to Frankfort's tent, his tired one eye looking at Frankfort. Samkon was doing somewhat better, struggling onward as he spoke with some authority to his liege in his usual chilled voice "My lord, you have some more night time guests, and they won't leave till you order me otherwise."

Frankfort blinked and there was an awkward silence. Samkon frowned and spoke more professionally "My lord, the mole Borbon and his friends wish to meet with you. Eskert and Loy."

Frankfort nodded, "Show them in, sir Samkon." Frankfort looked outside into the darkness, almost completely surprised how the night was now passing on. His tent was very well lit, and sitting on top of the main fort itself. Samkon kept the flap open as Loy Watertrot made his entrance first, frowning and looking a bit ashamed. Frankfort wondered if this wasn't a very friendly visit afterall, as Eskert and Borbon entered slowly thereafter.

"Loy Watertrot. Borbon. Eskert. I take it your accommodations are up to par? It is a bit late, but me and Shackleford here were having a good conversation."

Loy gave an unsure look to Borbon, whom in turn was also being given an annoyed look by Eskert. Frankfort could tell this was not a normal thing they wanted to discuss, like a discussion of information or some complaint. Frankfort patted the ground "Take a seat, good beasts, and relax, I am not blind to troubles."

Loy gave a somewhat small sigh of relief and sat as Eskert chided him a bit "Loy, I don't think this is a discussion we want to take up the Prince's time on, maybe perhaps we can give it a few days or two."

Loy spoke up to give his complaint "I am sorry, Frankfort, although I had given my word before I am not sure I can continue."

Frankfort sighed, and could easily guess his troubles "I know of your run in with the traitorous hares of the Long Patrol, and I know this has all been terrible, and I understand fully. If you so wish, you can stay in this camp an-"

Borbon interrupted "Tus is'unt dut, Mu Lurd."

There was a silence as Loy continued "Frankfort, I had given my oath I won't call any beast 'sir' again so long as I live still, because of the abuses of that horrible rat. Those abuses were of the seasons of slavery I endured under him, and what he continues with my friends. During the ambush, I was nearly killed by the beasts I sought to help me, but was only saved by one of the camp's new laborers. Younger weasel they now call Dangan. I came to grips with your land's justice-"

"As wull dursurved as it wus." Borbon again interrupted and folded his paws.

Loy had to pause, but a soft pat from his mole friend gave him the strength to continue "Frankfort, those hares I am told ambushed us on the behalf of the vermin? I understand that much, but I don't understand why you would put them in permanent bondage."

Frankfort's eyes went wide for a bit as he misread the room, and the severity of the accusation. Horst was so shocked that he gave an audible gasp, and Shackleford fumbled with his tea. Eskert frowned and tried to be reasonable with the otter and defend his destined aids "Loy, no need for that. It may be bondage, but even you cannot disagree these beasts certainly deserve it. Without Frankfort here, they would be running amok. The only real mystery here is why we give them mercy at all. The warrior, Martin, commanded me to put these dark beasts to flight. You know I am the warrior of Redwall, and both that spirit and I would see them be put to the sword."

Loy sighed in partial agreement "I know, Eskert, I know! Vermin are despicable, evil creatures who do evil, yes, but I cannot bear to see any beast in bondage. Especially one who saved my own life. I won't join with an army who will do that to living beasts like that, and it would be best if I set out on my own to find and deal with Gandal."

Shackleford tried to speak up, somewhat insulted at such an accusation "My good Otter, Loy is it? I know this land has many barbaric practices and beliefs, superstitious foolery and other nonsense, but do consider what you are saying! This isn't 'permanent bondage' or some terrible implication of s-slavery! In Southsward, under the contract of the Bellmaker's words, they will be made into serfs, not slaves! W-well I-"

Frankfort raised his paw, stopping the mouse's embarrassing rant as Loy continued to frown. Borbon spoke next "If Luy goes, dun I go. Dur varmunts don't dursurve our mercies fur all dur dumage duy dun to our hume, but I dun wish such indignuty dun unto dum eder. Luy, are ure sure dis is whut you wunt?"

Loy looked to Borbon and was rather unsure. In one part of his mind, he found the whole thing with how they treated these newly made serfs to be disgusting, but he found it rather ironic considering all the terrible things done to him. Yet, his real troubles sprung up "I'm sure, Borbon. Our friends, Lufan and Pelo noticed those beasts who attacked you now counted amongst the serfs as well. Vermin is one thing, but i've heard more then seen what kind of harsh punishments are dolled out. It reminds me too much of my time spent with Gandal, even if unintended."

Frankfort could see Loy was struggling, clearly trying to grasp everything all at once. After a moment, the prince spoke up with a more authoritative speech.

"Loy, I understand your concerns fully, as much as I had such doubts myself in these past few days and weeks. Good Otter, I feel like in some ways, we are acting like the very vermin we have come to civilize." Frankfort admitted. There was another audible shocked gasp from Horst, followed by one from Shackleford.

Frankfort explained further, lounging less on his cushion and taking his large golden pendant into his paw "Loy, I am the child of royalty, as my father is a great king of a great land. If he were here now, I fear deeply he would shame me for my actions, and berate me for what we are doing. We came here under the impression of aiding allies, and instead fell into a terrible trap as Shackleford has fully predicted. These vermin, Loy, are nothing but tools for a greater evil, and one which had been under our very noses this whole time. Borbon, you have long sought aid from the Long Patrol in fighting Gandal, but even as the heroes of Mossflower fell to his blade, they did not focus upon him? It is because Shackleford has found a terrible conspiracy, one which I must not only uproot, but fix entirely."

Borbon kept silent, trying to think it over. To him, it made little sense, but sounded far too pleasing to hear. He reluctantly nodded, as Frankfort arose and dropped his pendant to slack on his bright nightgown, taking in an air of authority.

"I know it may seem harsh, but we do not treat our serfs like we do back home. Back home, we have a long standing contract with our peoples, bound by the Bellmaker's great many machinations. It is a contract of mutual trust, of where serfs tend to the fields, and the nobles provide and rule them. It is a functioning system which has lasted for hundreds of seasons, one of ceaseless work to keep all beasts happy and busy. I may be a prince, but I am also the realm's leading leader of policies and its diplomatic head to its many vassals and states. If I fail in my duties, it could be devastating for all of Southsward. Serfs are bound by those same contracts, given land to tend to so that the mouths of our soldiers, merchants, and themselves can be fed. We expanded Southsward for their sakes, to provide resources and luxuries which we all thought Mossflower shared. To our terrible surprise, this land is held back in a poverty and decay we can't even imagine, and some of us still can't ponder it."

Frankfort came forward to Loy and gave him and reassuring smile "My good otter, we know how troubled you are, because those same troubles are our own! I do not wish to see any beast in bondage, but what am I to do when an enemy attacks us as we try to free them? What am I to do with a race of evil beasts who need to learn to be good beasts? It is a harsh measure, like any game of chess, we must all make sacrifices for all of our own benefit. Shackleford, the newly made laborers of this camp, what is our intention?"

Shackleford felt it was his time to shine, giving an explanation to Loy who wanted to raise his concerns, but listened on in "Good otter, we will not use the word 'servitude' or 'slave' here, for it simply isn't that. These vermin, and in some cases the woodlanders who fight against us, need to learn as if they are children. This friendly vermin who saved your life, I know of him vaguely, found amongst bandits he was. I know most of the serfs in this camp you know, I interview them quite often! If we did not save him from such a life, he would have ended up no better as an enemy than you would have slewn without much a second thought. These beasts need to be saved, mostly from themselves, and we can only do that through reasonable and logical steps. Punishment can't be light, it has to be in a way only the vermin understand. You have lived temporarily amongst them, you know how violent they are. We are sincere about helping them."

"We must also have them aid us in turn. I cannot both found a school and camp for these vermin while also free Mossflower from the whims of the Long Patrol and their dubious lords. An army needs beasts to carry its things, we need beasts to tend crops and gather resources. You escaped from a terrible, abusive creature but what would others say of me if I delayed their freedom while we shepherded the vermin and those who align with them to a better path?"

Loy blinked and looked down, trying to think on it as Borbon spoke to him in a very comforting voice. "Yur a lut like yur pa, Luy Waturtrut. Wit a guud heurt. Wur is a turrible thing, dut no guud beust is ever abule to du dur right diung in it. Dus squirrel here be a lut more thoughtful tuwards dur vermin dun me an' yur pa were."

Loy felt liked he wanted to speak up, but he was in truth speechless and still a little ashamed the more he thought about it. It was true, at first even he thought less of the vermin, and his mind wandered back to his first life he had taken in Gandal's camp, a younger beast not much older then himself he had put down without much a second thought. Eskert could see his friend still looked uncertain, as Eskert raised up a calmer tone "Loy, remember back in the marshes, when the frog and lizards were chasing us? Remember that vermin who traveled with us for a short while?"

Loy nodded as Eskert spoke up in a more terrible tone, admitting to him a terrible and harsh truth "Loy, he didn't go away. I killed him."

Loy's eyes shot up in surprise, as Frankfort and Shackleford looked to each other in confusion. Eskert arose and gave a sad explanation "I did not wish to speak much on it, but my reasons are still sound, for I would have done so again. Loy, that vermin who travelled with us, whom we saved from servitude to that cat. He would have sold you back into bondage the first moment he got. He would have stabbed us in the back, something even Lufan does not understand."

"E-eskert, isn't that-"

"Yes, it is murder, but when is killing not a form of murder? The difference is only when it is justified or not. I did not want to do it, I hated doing it, but it had to be done. The vermin are murderers and slavers all, even the ones in the camp. They are incapable of a lot of things, honesty among them. Consider that ironic if you so wish, but I can eventually be honest. If what this mouse says is right, that the vermin can be saved from themselves, then we won't have to live in fear of them. Then the beast you are befriending who saved your life from a sniper's arrow doesn't have to degenerate into something no different than what we are all fighting against. Martin the Warrior commands me to drive away the vermin, to kill them-"

There was an audible grunt of dissatisfaction from Shackleford, who still could not believe such superstitious nonsense. Eskert gave a nasty glare before returning his attention to Loy and continuing "Think ill of me, but every beast needs to make due with the fact it has to be this way, for a better peace and better world, we need to do terrible things."

Loy was frowning, but he nodded in defeat and got up, giving Eskert an affirmative nod. Frankfort smiled, he could see the three progressed nicely along as he spoke up in good fashion to them all "Come, we have all had a very long week. Take some time to have some tea-"

"I apologize, Frankfort." Loy interrupted. Frankfort and Borbon both wondered if Loy's doubt had in secret won him over, but they were relieved when Loy smiled and spoke up "I apologize for the bother of my doubts. It truly has been a very long, cold week."

Frankfort gave a friendly grunt and waved his paw in front of him "No need for that, good Loy. You don't even need to be forgiven. You were well to come to me, and as we are all honest beasts here, we shall go forward to a better world together."

Loy gave a confident and friendly smile to Frankfort and then to Eskert who smiled back knowing their friendship, despite such deception, was still there. They would all sit, drink their tea, and discuss the future. Darkness crept over the whole of Palewind, and the lights of campfires and torches were slowly and surely snuffed out.

---

In a village farther off, towards the great Inland Lake, a village called Vineburrow was settled towards the roads leading the southern hills and forests. Vineburrow was a village like any other in Mossflower, a simple place where thatched roofs and wooden structures housed the overbearing families of woodlanders. Of the village's inhabitants were an older couple who grumbled about the youth of the day, smaller families who have farmed in the village for so long that they couldn't recite a history before they settled down, and one smaller but wealthy family which by pure coincidence held power by a trade which they never intended to wield.

Gaster Greatvine was a simple brownish squirrel by all means, an adult now who lived with his parents and grandparent who were dye makers. Their dyes were bought by the Long Patrol who used it to make their coats and flags. The squirrel was bent down in a field near his village, picking up sticks for firewood kindling. Gaster looked about his surroundings, the awe inspiring forests of Mossflower and its green hue reigning down on him, he smiled and began to hum. The squirrel fixed up his simple dark green tunic and continued down his path, only to hear someone old behind him yell for him.

"Gaster! Gaster!"

It was his old pa, Walger Greatvine. The graying squirrel didn't have a strong jump to his step, but he seemed almost out of breath as he came around. Gaster figured why he was there, calling out to him "I'm almost done! Got about as much for today and for tom-"

Gaster stopped and began to frown when Walger got closer. The old squirrel was ever a proud member of his community, an old soul who fought in the war against the toads who tried to raid their lands. He may have been old, but he wore his lighter armor with a hint of ease and pride, fixing up his large belt which hung a shortsword from it. Gaster always knew he had such things on him, he never was able to keep quiet about his old war stories, but seeing him donning an iron helm as he marched up to him made the squirrel a bit uneasy.

"Pa, is something wrong?"

Walger stopped, giving himself time to breath and frown, speechless in what he was about to reveal. Gaster stood up, blinking at him and trying to guess what was wrong.

"The toads, are they coming back? Vermin?"

"No." Walger said in a low voice, and patted Gaster's shoulder "But we'll need you, all the fighting beasts in the village need to muster, which includes you."

"A-all of them?" Gaster frowned further. He wasn't really good with a sword, he knew that much after his half hearted attempt to do a mock duel with his father, and then later with his friends.

"The Bluebents, Flowerpicks, and Murmgers are all gathering in the village. Come along, I'll try to explain on the way."

Gaster took his small bundle of sticks in paw and followed closely, tying them in twine he had brought and shouldering it so he could keep up the pace with his father. Gaster was a little confused "If it ain't toads or vermin, then what is it? Ravens again?"

"Ravens keep their neck of the woods, and they know full well what will happen if they try to bother us again. No, something has happened in Palewind. That hare fort down south. There is a long patrol officer in the village, asking us for help."

"Oh. Ma is probably hopping mad."

Gaster's attempt at joking got a rare look of anger from his father, and Gaster silenced himself before being chided "No more words like that, Gaster. No time for such moods. This is more serious than before."

Gaster looked ashamed and nodded as he followed behind, as Walger tried to explain what was happening "You know that merchant that came with those good sugary treats not too long ago? From Southsward? There is an invader down south, which came up from there, flying Southsward banners. It isn't vermin, its damned woodlanders."

Gaster's eyes opened wide with disbelief "What? Why?"

"I don't fully know, nor do the Long Patrol. Their commander has been captured and apparently some of them have been killed or hanged by them. They are enslaving good woodlanders and the vermin alike as what the hare in the village tells me."

"E-enslave? You ask me not to joke!"

Another glare got Gaster to shut his mouth again, but he was still looking at him with disbelief. "The hares sent a messenger, they are forming an army of united villages against them, and are trying to form a larger army. This isn't an enemy like Gandal and his kin, this is a stronger threat. Gaster, I know you ain't a fighting beast like me, but you need to help your ma pack up our things and get on the caravan heading north towards the inner forests."

Gaster knew what this meant, the safe havens of the deeper forests protected all manner of beasts and hid them from the prying eyes of evil and good beasts alike. Many woodlanders fled there from the north when Cluny the Scourge ravaged the northwest coasts, and it was there the vermin gangs would put aside their differences to get out of the sight of the Long Patrol. It was a mutual agreement to not touch those who fled there. The two made their way to the village, a small hamlet in the forest with a large hall in the center. Gaster and Walger walked into the village center, and were quickly greeted by a friendly face.

"Sir Walger. There you are." A meek voice rang out. Walger turned to see a fellow squirrel coming up to him and looking about anxiously. "W-we were waiting for you, where did you go."

"To get my son, Flowerpick." Walger was starting to look anxious himself. Not too long ago, there were over ten hares in the village. Yet where were they now? Gaster kept his paws in the pockets of his pants, unsure what else to do. He wandered over to his own home to start packing, but stopped when he noticed some figures disappear behind their colorful home.

"Walger, perhaps we should go into the great hall, grab some food before-" The Flowerpick gulped nervously, and Walger got on edge. In his eyes, the squirrel looked far too nervous as Walger's paw went straight towards his sword. He noticed the other villagers were not packing, but looking at him in a terrified manner. Walger gripped the squirrel and pulled him close, whispering to him.

"The hells is going on, and tell me quickly."

The squirrel only answered by looking towards the great hall which soon bursted open with a yellow clad otter and his retinue coming out, looking surprised to see Walger there. The warrior squirrel quickly pushed the other fellow rodent aside and drew his sword swiftly, but was met when a hedgehog bursted from another home and aimed down a crossbow at him, firing and hitting him in the shoulder.

Walger doubled over in horrible pain, his yelp alerting his son. Gaster was wide eyed, rushing over to his father up until a couple of hares rushed him and dragged him downward. Gaster resisted terribly, and the Southwarders slammed him into the ground and punched down, causing him needless suffering until he relented. Walger dragged the bolt from his shoulder, but not before the otter came over and pulled the sword from his grip and kicked it aside.

"Captain Gythan." A hare spoke up, coming out of the Great Hall and looking about "Is something the matter?"

"Nothing much, Captain Murchan." Gythan responded and looked down at Walger, keeping himself silent. The two captains were richly dressed to beasts like Gaster, their trimmed black and yellow clothes, fine fish leather boots, and ornate pins with symbols of authority. The hare twirled his long and trimmed mustache which hung just below his nose. Walger growled at them both as Murchan approached.

"Cowards and villains all!" the warrior squirrel spat "Where are my comrades, and where are the hares."

"Dead." Gythan grunted in response. Murchan was a bit more sly, as if proud to inform him "Partly true, most are dead. We tracked them down to this little hamlet and ambushed them. Chased them quite a ways into the woods. We were just explaining to the chief the consequences of aiding the enemy of Mossflower and Southsward."

Gaster spoke up at them, angrily calling them out "Enemies of Mossflower!? Mad beasts as much as vermin!" Gaster got a harsh punch to his back which stirred the injured Walger. Murchan spoke up to the soldiers "Drag these two to the back, and continue evacuating the village."

The soldiers dragged Walger and Gaster upward as Murchan followed his soldiers and Gythan grumbled. The otter approached the Flowerpick who kept his head down in shame, only briefly speaking to him to confirm his family's reward for aiding them. Gaster and Walger were dragged further into the woods, and beheld their friends and allies being held captive. They were all members of the local militia and elders of families, all of whom knew Walger well and were now bound in ropes. This group was split aside by an older squirreless who looked horrified to see the injured Walger and beaten upon Gaster.

"Fiends, what have you done!"

Walger's missus nearly rushed up to them despite her bound paws, which was stopped by the soldiers guarding them. Pushed into the crowd, Walger and his missus embraced despite his injury. Their attention to one another was only pulled away when Murchan spoke up, looking down spitefully at the would-be rebels.

"I am Captain Murchan, and under orders of General Nosbub and thus Prince Frankfort, this village is to be removed and its inhabitants evacuated to a safer land behind friendly lines. You are all complicit in the continued resistance of our enemies and attempted joining with nefarious forces."

"Nefarious? You villains are invading our bleeding home." Walger retorted. Murchan spoke up again, ignoring the comment for now "We are here to save you from the vermin, and from those whom use them to keep you content to live under an unjust monarchy! We have come to realize this now, but we do not suspect you to accept it easily. Which is why I will ask you to give up your resistance against us. Our lord is merciful and as good woodlanders, I ask you to give up your old fealties. For your own good."

Walger spat "Damn your loyalties, hare. Murderers you all are!" The squirrel stirred up his friends around him, speaking with a clear harshness to try to break the delusion of these mad southern kin "You come to our land, murdering our protectors! I've lived long and well in this land, and I won't be subjugated by you cretans."

Murchan stared at Walger, thinking something over. The officer then snapped his paws at some of his soldiers and spoke up again to the crowd "Fine. Frankly, if you feel that way, how about this. Those who do not wish to swear fealty to Prince Frankfort, line up over there. The rest of you will rejoin your families in the wagons once we leave."

Gaster was immediately suspicious and some of the folk didn't move. Walger and his missus stepped forward, and Gaster was about to follow. He noticed a number of his father's friends joined him, despite being family patriarches in their own right, they gave the Southswarders a vicious stare. Walger limped with his missus, but paused only when he was far enough away from the other group who did not have his bravery. Gaster was stopped by one of the soldiers, and then pushed back into the crowd of captives. Walger's jaw dropped a bit in realization when he looked to see a few crossbow beasts casually walking their way, aimed their crossbows, and fired into them.

The first group was felled as Walger hugged his missus and shielded her. Gaster screamed horrifically, trying to rush past the others as his father was felled in an instant. His mother, holding the lifeless body in her paws did not stop hugging, even as Murchan shouted out again at his murderous underlings to fire. Those who were injured were shot down, and those who did not were cut down by another short volley. Gaster cried out horrifically at the sight as his mother went limp and fell, joining her husband.

There was gasped silence that followed as Murchan spoke to the crowd once the dark deed had been done. "Does anyone else wish to not swear fealty to Prince Frankfort?"

There was true fear amongst the woodlanders, but Gaster's anger took him. He was staring at his dead parents, desperatly trying to get to them in a mad dash, but couldn't as the soldiers held him. Most of the soldiers looked ashamed, while others set to the task of burying their victims. Murchan looked at Gaster and grunted "Have this one crippled and we'll make our way back to Palewind in no time. Now ab-" Murchan didn't get to speak much more when an arrow hit his shoulder and he fell. "Am-ambush! Captain Gythan! Help!"

From the tree line, a volley of arrows sent the Southwarders into flight while others drew weapons. Two hares came out of the bushes. The soldiers scoffed, greatly outnumbering the Long Patrol who drew rapiers upon them.

This mistake would be costly.

The soldiers lowered halberds at them and began to load crossbows, but the Long Patrol in their more prepared state out-skilled them on levels they did not think possible. One soldier tried to thrust a halberd at one, only for the hare to swim in the air to the side and cut at his throat with such speed. The hares mockingly killed and injured their foes, and Gaster soon joined them.

The squirrel rushed over to his still parents, unsure what to do or think. He was horrified beyond measure, but his eyes darted to a fallen soldier's blade. He rushed over to pick it up and lashed out at one of the enemy soldiers. The other militia members joined in, cutting their bonds as the Long Patrol drove the Southswarders back.

"No time for vengeance, chaps!" One shouted "Follow us to the lake! Hurry now!"

Gaster had to be grabbed and shaken by a hare next to him as they drove one of the soldiers to flight. The squirrel, with tears in his eyes, wished to chase them.

"Not worth it, young bean. We'll drive them out, but not as ghosts."

Gaster had to stop himself and hung his head low. He kept his sword and followed the hare, the group disappearing into the woods before reinforcements could arrive.
_

Daen never wished to be a commander, as the hare stared out over the waters of the great inland lake. He had thoughts of his kin back in Salamandastron, and his thoughts turned to his poor superior officer. The hare was silent like the grave, thinking on all the terrible events which led up to this moment. Kasg. A thought entered his mind, a hateful spell of coming to grips with that evil ghost which hanged over the whole of Mossflower. Kasg. That bounder, couldn't have had the bleeding decency to have terrible officers. Had to soften us up for these evil creatures. Daen thought and thought, wondering where it all went wrong, and what could had been done to fix it. Yet, he had no answer. He chuckled to himself mentally, thinking it silly to dwell so much on the past, but yet, what was one to do in these terrible hours.

It was all a waiting game.

Daen turned to see the remains of the Long Patrol under him, with all manner of militia members from the villages having come to help. His force was small, barely over fifty beasts, half of which were his own soldiers. They were setting up tents on the beach of the Inland lake, a group of mice were repairing their wagon, and he could see some of his soldiers returning with more recruits. Daen smiled, but then it faded when he counted those who returned. He approached with a caution, as he saw the group bloodied.

"Report." Daen ordered, his softness replaced with concern. His soldier shook his head sorrowfully. "They ambushed us, afraid we may have to move soon, sar. I think they may have got to one of our boys in Palewind, cause they crept up on us really quickly. Killed good ol' Marglin and Malfan. We got who we could, but we couldn't rescue their families."

Gaster walked slowly into the camp, looking around blankly and keeping quiet. The others were as sorrowful as he was, sitting at the lake's edge and washing themselves up. Daen sighed "Get yourselves cleaned up and be ready to move out. Walger, is he-" The hare made a pause, but the soldiers frowned. They pointed to Gaster who stared out into the lake.

"I see."

Daen approached Gaster who caught the hare's presence briefly. Daen was silent, as the squirrel spoke with an unsure anger in his voice.

"Sir hare, I am told you were rounding up help to fight the southerners. I-I don't know much about fighting, but I am Gaster Greatvine. Son of Walger Greatvine. I can help, I swear on my life I will help."

Daen shook his head "My boy, I'm afraid that won't be doable. Too inexperienced."

Gaster gritted his teeth "Sir hare, you don't understand. I ain't leaving, not after what they did."

Daen frowned "I understand your frustration, you're not the only one good Gaster. I am Lieutenant Daen, the last commanding hare south of Redwall it seems."

Daen explained the best he could of the grim situation facing them "We were harried all the way to Palewind by those mad beasts, only to find an entire garrison of them sitting on top of our bleeding fort. All you see here is what we got left."

"Why? Why are they murdering us?"

"They believe they are saving us." Daen sighed, sounding like it pained him to admit it "Bleeding mad is the best way to describe it. They were called here to fight vermin, and their understanding of those dark creatures is no different than how they view us. Now they live in derangement, and we suffer for it. This is a battle for the very survival of Mossflower, good Gaster. I cannot risk the lives of beasts on a whim, nor have them block the way."

Gaster shook his head and folded his paws "Then sir, I am afraid you haven't convinced me one bit. I will make my dues. I want to fight."

"Do you wish for revenge or to drive them out of Mossflower?"

"Is there a difference?"

Daen frowned "Yes. Mostly so, wot. You want to fight with us? You must pull more than your own weight. You must do as asked, even if it pains you. There can be no victory here, good Gaster, without terrible things coming to pass. Are you absolutely sure this is what you can do? Do you wish to go all the way?"

Gaster paused and could see Daen meant what he said, as the squirrel frowned. He was new to all this, he was wild with fury, but now away from it he felt hollow. He had nowhere to turn to, but he could always walk away from it all.

No. He thought. He paws curled into a fist.

"Daen. I am prepared to go all the way."

Daen smiled and nodded "So be it then. Pack up our things into the wagon and be ready to move out. I cannot do much with you, but seasons we will drive the foe out once again. Your father was a good friend of mine, Gaster. He would be proud I am sure, but he would surely have beaten me to a pulp if he were around to see me conscripting you into this."

Gaster finally smiled back "You and me both. What is to be done afterward?"

"We move to a place less known, but not until we free up our forces in the southern villages. We'll make them bleed for every inch of ground they think they take."

---

Frankfort was on top of the walls of Palewind, looking down into the vast array of yellow and white tents which slowly sprung up along the base. Through little effort, the small hare fortress was being transformed into a proper military settlement and war camp. Tents were orderly set up, barracks tents were filled, and depots for weapons and armor were constructed. Around the main base, wooden walls and towers were being constructed, and some of the army's engineers and moles were digging out a stockade below his very feet to house the coming of prisoners. The yellow flag of Southsward swirled overhead, followed by war songs and chants heard across the camp to pass the time.

Frankfort breathed in, looking at the fortified hill which was also being transformed, a host of masons were constructing a more proper military facility and the tents of the main general and officers were being permanently set into place. The squirrel prince felt the cool wind of Mossflower breath into his face as he looked about, calm as he was now.

"Good morning my lord."

Frankfort looked down from the walls to see Samkon and Lars walking up to his level. The one eyed mouse bowed his head and left Lars to come next to his prince with Frankfort looking ever more anxious. He stood valiantly as he spoke to his good friend.

"Is my army ready, Lars?"

"Not till the afternoon." The large hare quickly reminded him. Frankfort looked to him and remembered, simply going "Oh, right."

"You are doing fine, my Prince." Lars tried to comfort him, but the squirrel was having none of it.

"None of this is fine, Lars. None of it is. I came here, to the land of our nation's savior, to find out everything we knew about our heroes to be a fiction, the land infested with vermin, and now it is by my paw that we go from aiding our would be allies to arresting them. I am-" Frankfort sniffed "I must remain strong, for all of them. I am a Prince of Southsward, heir to a great kingdom. Lars, we cannot fail. It is too important that we do not."

Lars was silent, impressed that Frankfort could look within himself and be self critical. It was true, none of this was right. "Your father and I made mistakes as well, my prince. You are not free of it, but we can fix it."

"We will fight Gandal soon. I am happy to be rid of one enemy army at least."

"Do not celebrate yet. We haven't won."

Frankfort nodded as he looked down at the incoming groups of beasts. "The captains return from their patrols. You think Shackleford's plan will work?"

Lars scoffed, "For their sake, it better."

From across southern Mossflower they were captured, dragged by captains in various ways to their bondage in Palewind. Rats, weasels, ferrets, foxes, stouts, and many others were marched through the unfinished gates in shackles, and lined up before a newly made overseer who introduced them to their new lives. Several woodlanders who dared resist the liberation of this realm found themselves in a similar predicament as threats were issued and shackles removed. They were told they would become the serfs of Southsward, and were marched off further into the camp. Their fur was scrubbed and cleaned, they were trimmed and powdered, and their clothes replaced with baggier tunics and yellow vests. Many of the drillmasters and camp overseers ended up being conscripted to being the impromptu teachers to these vermin, and their cruelty showed as the light crack of whips and cries of pained beasts echoed.

They were set to work on all manner of projects, as some came to realize very quickly the fate of those who disobeyed or became violent. Many unfortunate beasts were given the warning of a brutal lashing, followed by mutilation to those who resisted further.

Death by hanging was given to those believed to be far too violent and tainted.

Vermin of all types and all ages passed through and were told of their new dark fate. Their names were taken from them, their very identities were smashed apart. Frankfort would have found the sight quite deplorable, but yet, he found himself smiling at the sight. They are in a much more rightful place, they'll even be happy serving their betters.

It was an odd thought and he shook it from himself as he turned to Lars "Let us find the others, and we-"

"Before we do so, sir." Lars said, looking to Frankfort with a tinge of worry. Frankfort paused as Lars spoke up.

"General Nosbub, the Black Twitch. I am concerned."

"Concerned?" Frankfort raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. With your permission sir, I would like to send some of my soldiers to intercept his incoming mail and so forth. Watch him a bit. This isn't about his loyalty, just a difference in opinion to how he handles things."

Frankfort paused and slowly nodded, not sure what Lars was going on about, but he was smarter than he was. "Yes, of course. Is there a particular reason for having one of my general watched, Lars?"

"Call it a suspicion." Lars only commented and looked at him, smiling confidently. Frankfort frowned and nodded once again. Lars nodded back and went off on his own. As Frankfort came down from the walls, he couldn't help but feel a bit anxious. Once we rid this land of Gandal Blackfur, things will improve greatly.
_

Nosbub sat with a great deal of comfort in his ornate wooden chair, his feet kicked up on his desk which cost more than three whole life time salaries than one of his own soldiers, with a big smirking grin on his face. The Black Twitch certainly had a lot going for him, as he listened to the soft echo of birds, the marching of soldiers, and the ever distant sound of a terrible scream followed by the crack of a whip. The black was thinking about all number of things, but one thing drew his attention the most.

His Orders.

Nosbub had subtly provided the worlds most absurd orders to his troops who now scoured Mossflower's southern regions. To Murchan, he told him to purge those who resist. To Gythan, he wanted law and order. Some got orders to collect vermin but leave woodlanders alone, but to those captains who showed the most promise for him, he had them rounding up those blump and meek hare families who were scattered all across the southern Mossflower. The Long Patrol would certainly not take him taking or killing their kin unopposed, but that had all been apart of his growing chaotic scheme.

"Comfortable?" A rough and harshly low voice called to Nosbub which nearly made him frown. Nosbub boringly looked up to see Lars staring down with an increasing spite at him, and he did not seem at all happy.

"Was." Nosbub replied as he continued to relax. Lars pounded his paw into Nosbub's desk, which got an auditable and childish groan from the greasy, slick hare. "Do be careful not to scratch my desk, Lars. I am more than confident you couldn't afford to replace it."

"You have five seconds to stand at attention." Lars said in a threatening tone. Nosbub cringed and slowly sat into his chair and twitched his head to the side. It took him a while as Lars looked about Nosbub's furnished tent, disgust and contempt on his face. Lars looked at baubles of decadence strone about, there was a bookshelf full of boring numbers of manuels, and the one thing that always caught Lars's eye was Nosbub's gold lined wardrobe which sat menacingly near his bed. Nosbub coughed and spoke up with an increasing boredom, not amused by Lars's outburst.

"Did I do something wrong by chance, captain Lars? Did I not bow my head at some rightful time, hmmm?"

"Your orders, Nosbub."

The Black Twitch froze, but only for a short time before his nose twitched which was followed by his head. Lars continued, pacing about the tent.

"I had some of my Hares ask around these new serfs, woodlanders and vermin, along with some of your captains. I'd normally find it a bit odd but reasonable when one tells me 'he ordered me to liquidate' while another says 'he ordered me to sweep'. Though, Nosbub, what is strange is your orders to apparently be specific. Esmert tells me you ordered him to gather youngsters from parents who didn't swear their fealty, but told some of Kelsum's captains that this wasn't the case?" Lars looked at Nosbub, demanding an explanation. Nosbub had his own questions however.

"And who exactly told you that you can just bleeding go up to my captains and interrogate them. Captain." Nosbub seethed, his paws curling harder into one another. Lars smirked.

"Well, Prince Frankfort himself of course."

Nosbub paused for that one as Lars turned to him fully, his smirk turning into a bitter frown. "Nosbub, your 'tactics', if you have even the slightest decency to call them that, is beyond reckless. The vermin I understand, but our Prince demands liberation. You are having your captains kill or kidnap those who resist, and you bloody well know how upset they will be by that."

"Yes. Yes." Nosbub rolled his eyes "Oh do tell me Lars how to do my bleeding job, you overgrown kit. I did order them to make sure Frankfort's message was good and clear, and just because my orders aren't the clearest doesn't give you the right to challenge me. I am your superior after all."

"By the Bellmaker." Lars growled lowly. He came threateningly close as Nosbub instinctively began to retreat further into his chair and away from Lars in fear. If there was one beast who had little respect for his command, Lars certainly was eager to remind him.

"Redact your orders, Nosbub, preferably before those villages decide they revolt. If your stupidity comes back to bite us, I'll make sure your peers chew you out so hard that you'll be wishing King Humbert was here to smack that pathetic twitch of yours out of your bleeding system."

"Fine, run my army for me." Nosbub growled back in response, but Lars kept it up and came even closer. Nosbub could feel a special spite from him. "And if I even smell a single trouble from you, you pathetic excuse of a Hare, I will bleeding know. Your orders need approval from our Prince from now on." Lars stood at attention, looking down at him as if he wanted to spit, and left. Nosbub sat at his desk, giving pause for a singular moment before moving. In frustration, his paws instantly began to claw at his desk in pure, unfiltered rage.

"Esmert!" Nosbub angrily called from outside. It did not take long for Esmert to waddle in, a look of fear and embarrassment on the noble's face as he affixed his royal collar and stood at a safe distance from Nosbub.

"I swear, if that bleeding over glorified babysitter didn't have Squirrelking authority, i'd have stayed quiet, sir."

"Enough, you idiot." Nosbub growled and stood up. He went to his tent, looking in various directions, looking for one beast in particular. He spied a hare with a gilded armor looking at him and his tent, but wasn't the most serious or subtle in his new mission to spy on him.

Nosbub growled, keeping his voice hushed as he spoke to Esmert with a growing fury "Damn him in particular. Esmert, go and grab your division and start pretending to do something, I don't care what, but make it look like you are redacting my orders. My plan moves ahead."

"Even after all that?" Esmert said a bit concerned, but Nosbub sat back and grunted "Of course, Esmert. Those villages will revolt in time. Plenty of time to be rid of a new problem. Once those idiot serfs do decide to work up the courage to get themselves killed by us, we'll be out in the field butchering those who dare resist. Once the area is pacified and Frankfort returns from his little campaign against that rat, we need to find a way to be rid of Lars for bleeding good."

Esmert was shocked as he heard this, as Nosbub thought deeply to himself. "Yes. Lars, our dear captain of the guard. Marshal of the Golden Regiment. I wonder if we can get him ambushed by some bleeding Long Pa-" Nosbub paused and began to smile.

"Esmert, I want you to redact my orders to Murchan, I think I want a change in policy."

"Y-yes?" Esmert looked uncomfortable as Nosbub arose a bit more "Yes, I heard I had sent one of my captains out to put down those Long Patrol broods, partly in secret of course. I want you to take over, and start kidnapping them. Youngsters preferably. Once put into serfdom here, we'll see if we can draw in a few of those last hare hold outs. Get one of them to put a big, ol' nice arrow right between that wretch's eyes."

Nosbub frowned and then thought it over "Subtly of course, Esmert. Now go, before I decide to give this to Gythan, and reconsider your position in this army."

Esmert gave a weak although awkward smile and left. Nosbub sat in his desk and began to think of all the terrible things he would do to Lars. Poor, stupid Lars. How Frankfort will miss you when you are gone, but the boy certainly needs to grow up under a more enlightened tutelage. A more realistic one.
_

Toila was surrounded by her various mercenaries who sat or stood uncomfortably in their shackles. Gosland looked on awkwardly as his sister Perla stood at attention to guard over the situation. Toila wanted to speak up, but she felt too awkward to do so. The flap of the large tent was pulled open and Lars stepped through.

Toila found herself in a place she wasn't all too familiar with. She had grown up in a horde, so she knew how tent cities could be. Her first home was a tent, the armory was a tent, the mess hall, the latrine. All of it covered by cloth just to keep the rain and sun out. Yet, the tent she was in was decently sized, almost like a circus tent but just a bit smaller. In front of her was a table with five chairs, with Gosland in the middle, and one of his captains writing some things down. Gosland looked relieved when Lars entered as he excused himself.

"Apologies General Gosland, I was delayed. I saw a fox and that other weird vermin outside awaiting. Let us be done with this and quickly."

"Aye, ya can just let me an' me boys go." Toila demanded. Lars gave her a dark look and one of her mercenaries whispered.

"Mam, I dink dey don't like us all dat much."

"Course dey don't like us, cause dey a bunch of wretches dey are." Toila tried to whisper back, but an audible sigh from Gosland get her to silence herself. Lars sat down as Gosland began.

"I am aware you are a violent beast as you are fond of saying, Toila Longspear. You and your mercenaries aren't exactly new here."

"Of course were bleeden violent, why ya dink we are mercenaries!?" Toila snapped back. Lars spoke up with clear annoyance "Speak badly again, vermin, and we'll end this quickly."

"What ya mean quickly, like quickly an' we get to get out o' here?" One of the vermin next to Toila asked. Lars breathed in and out and spoke up again after a short pause "This talk is to decide your fates, vermin. If we don't like what we hear, the gallows await."

The chatty vermin silenced themselves immediately, and Gosland continued.

"You are mercenaries, we know that, but we want to know if you are a danger to woodlanders. Have you been a danger to woodlanders? Have you caused harm to Mossflower's citizens?"

"Nay, o' course not. We'd never."

"Erm, except dat one time."

"What about dat vole's farm?"

"Will ya two shut up! Dey don't know about dat!"

The group chatted amongst themselves as Toila shushed them. She spoke up, trying to be as calm and diplomatic as she could. "Nay, we'd mostly been hired to beat up some vermin raiders who try to get der dirty paws on farther off farms were der Long Patrol don't really bother to patrol much. Me boys were rowdy a few times, sure, but we aren't exactly looken fer hordes to join up with. Most can't afford us."

"Oh, I am certain." Lars said sarcastically. Gosland's captain wrote something down, as Toila looked worried. Gosland frowned a bit and shook his head "You are violent beasts an-"

"Now hold on." Toila begged. Gosland stopped, annoyed, but Toila looked worried and dismayed. She looked to her mercenaries and much to Gosland and Lars amazement, she tried to find herself a new employer.

"Ya folk, yer here to take dem woodlander villages? Well me an me boys be willen to offer ya our skilled services fer a decent amount, eh? Come now otter, ya know me. I hope. Please. I'll even give ya all a discount, half off me normal price!"

Lars angrily spoke up "We are far from interested, vermin."

Gosland looked to Lars and whispered something to him. Lars looked at Gosland weirdly, as the mercenaries continued to amuse them both. "Now, half off seems a bit much Toila. How about three fourths off?"

"Three fourths? I say we are deserving of full price! At least I am!"

"Shhhh!" Toila again firmly kicked and nudged her fellows "Be silent ya idiots, we eder give em a good deal or we get hanged! Okay, maybe half off is a bit much. But we gotta give em' somethen. Ya rot brains got any good ideas?"

"How about our first mission be free?"

That mercenary got slapped across the head from Toila "Free!? I'd radder be dead then give any of dis lot a free service from der likes of us. I ain't dat cheap!"

Gosland intervened "I have a deal." The group silenced themselves as Gosland arose "You are mercenaries, but you have claimed to not harm anyone. Proof of that is hard to come by, so you will prove it to us over time. You'll swear your fealty to Southsward and start as serfs of this land, tending to crops or some other task. However, I will have one of my captain lord over you, and if he likes you, I'll consider allowing you to join this army with Shackleford's blessing."

"Join der army, pfft." One of the mercenaries scoffed. Toila sighed, knowing she wouldn't find a better deal. Gosland rolled his eyes as the mercenaries looked cynically at him "Joining the army comes with payment, ten silvers a month. Once you prove you're tame of course."

Toila grunted, and nodded as she turned to her skeptical comrades. She whispered to them, and they seemed to soften and calm down. She then turned around, and spoke up "Two silvers or whatever fer services rendered doin hard work."

"That's not how this works." Lars pointed out.

"One silver, take it or leave it." Toila tried to bargain. Gosland frowned and whispered to Lars. Lars nodded and cringed. "Fine. One silver. Per year, and for perfect attendance on your duties. Once this campaign is over, we'll debate this all later."

Toila was led out as Lars felt mentally exhausted. Gosland sat down and sighed "I hope I am not being too lenient with them, Shackleford says they only respond to violence."

"Maybe you are, but frankly, so long as they think they can achieve some higher status through bargains, I am frankly content to not have them muck about. You should be promoted, Gosland, for tolerating her at all."

"Trust me, Lars, you have no idea."
_

Nosrig came in next and stood with a cold expression as Lars had to stand up and look him over. The fox archer didn't seem to be amused at all by his surroundings, nor did he speak much. Gosland looked him over from afar as he spoke to the fox with what authority he could muster over him.

"Nosrig Bowthief, an interesting surname to say at least. I am told that you and your clan of vermin ar-"

"My father's clan." Nosrig corrected. Lars stopped looking him over as the fox looked at him back. Gosland continued, although with less patience in his tone "Your father's clan. It was mentioned by Nirb and Mirb, one of our serfs, that your clan might now something about Nurf Bloodkeep. Would you care to explain?"

"Nurf was in my pa's gang seasons ago, before he went mad." Nosrig casually explained to him. "Pa would know more. He an' his gang used to be bandits till the Long Patrol told us to stop. Firmly. Pa allowed the Long Patrol to arrest his worst members, and we just lived in the forest to ourselves since. If you are wondering if we know where Nurf is, than I am sorry to say that my Pa an' him aren't on good enough terms to know where he keeps himself hold up at."

Lars grunted and returned to his chair and began his own line of questioning "Any particular reason we should believe you on this?"

"I don't see why you wouldn't." Nosrig explained "Nurf isn't exactly well liked even amongst vermin."

Gosland tapped his chin "Nosrig, your clan are bandits, perhaps if we got to speak with them an-"

"If you are asking where they are, I ain't tellen. You'll have to just kill me if you want that kind of information, otter. Pa isn't exactly the most friendly beast, and just wants to be left alone."

"Refusing to tell us where he is only makes us suspicious." Lars said. Nosrig rolled his eyes "Doesn't change my answer, long ears."

Lars growled, but Gosland spoke up "Those young squirrels who we got in the fort spoke on your behalf I am told. May I ask about that?"

"I and my sister found them after Nurf raided their farmstead. Pa ordered me to go to Palewind to tell them we had them. It was why I was here in the first place."

"You didn't raid their farm yourself?" Gosland tried to prod, but Nosrig was having none of it. He growled in a low tone "Of course I bleeding didn't. You think I am going to come to some hare fort to ransom a bunch of kids who just ended up here anyway? Think less of Toila and her clowns, or that Mink, but don't insult me with this drivel."

Gosland and Lars looked at each other and silently agreed. Lars spoke up "You know Nurf well? Could you perhaps track him?"

"Maybe." Nosrig truthfully told "Nurf is difficult to track for a good reason, but there are some signs one can look for."

"Can you help us deal with him?" Lars added. Nosrig looked at him and slowly nodded. Lars then spoke up "I'd be more lenient if you told us more about this bandit clan, but Gosland and I agreed a bit ago that you may be useful. Whatever banditry you committed in the past will be forgiven, but only if you aid in Nurf's capture or death. Your weapons won't be handed back to you, but my hares will need you as a scout."

Nosrig grunted as Gosland again tried to speak up at him "Though, that amnesty can spread to your family if you were to help us understand them better. Shackleford has shown interest in this as well."

"No." Nosrig coldly replied. Gosland frowned as Lars ordered him back to the stockade.
_

Lars looked over Jurnal and his brothers, unsure what to think of them. Jurnal's brothers were younger than him and stood side by side, and looked far more worried than he was. Jurnal looked a bit happy almost with the way he curiously smiled and kept up his chin to the group, even as chains chafed his paws. Lars could tell they were warriors of some kind, but certainly not the hordebeasts he had read of. They reminded him of common Southsward soldiers, but they insisted they were mercenaries.

Gosland was far less convinced.

"I would like to know at least where you got your armor, and which otter you stole it from."

"As I've said before, river dog, we bought this armor for ourselves."

Gosland grew impatient "Vermin don't buy armor, they steal it. Now please cooperate, cause I was starting to like you." Gosland admitted. Jurnal and his brothers had been silent and far less difficult than others, in fact, Jurnal had been quite cooperative up until this point. Gosland couldn't figure out for the life of him why he would deny his own nature like this. He could guess, since vermin could only lie of course. Yet, Jurnal was insistent.

"I am sorry, General Gosland. Me an' me bruthers don't exactly have much to say other den dat we bought it. If it makes you feel much better, river dog, der armor we got it from was made by river dog paws."

Gosland felt a little relieved for him to say this at least, but grew concerned. Lars asked him "I assume you mean a slave made it."

"Slave. Serf. Whatever you wish to say. Back home, you beasts are vassal an' knee benders, so we don't really mind much." Jurnal smiled. Lars was curious and asked further "Your home, where is it exactly?"

"East. Across the sea, towards the north. Our uncle owns a small estate there, an' is apart of the Sejem. He owns lands here and there."

Gosland sighed "Owns more than land I assume."

The two minks next to Jurnal shifted uncomfortably, knowing something they really didn't wish to tell him, something Lars and Gosland picked up quickly on. Jurnal explained in his usual charming manner "Aye, I joined my uncle once on a campaign against some woodlander folk, its where I got most of my experience as a warrior from. Back home, we got a squirrel and mouse who do a lot of our menial work for us. I would have brought them along, but we-"

"I've heard enough." Lars commented. Jurnal sighed as Gosland spoke up "I'd call it predictable, but I shall call it disappointing. However, we can discuss such things later. Why did you come to Mossflower?"

"Mostly for money." Jurnal shrugged. "Though, Pa did want me to take a prisoner or two maybe to bring back, though after speaking with the local hares, we decided against it. Understandably, O' course."

Lars had some suspicions as one of the Mink's brothers, the slightly older one looked down in shame and averted his eyes. Lars perked up a question to him "Jurnal, perhaps you misunderstand. Your crimes are minor mostly and beyond your control. Did you come here with your brothers just to find gold and cause Mossflower trouble."

"Oh, yes." Jurnal happily admitted, much to his brother's shock. The younger one tried to nudge him, but Jurnal didn't budge "I was the one who convinced them to come here with me, a family trip you could say. Sort of. I mentioned to them once or twice that maybe we could trick a hare to come back with us, but we all decided against it. My brothers had to convince me otherwise."

Gosland frowned "Jurnal, are you lying to us?"

"General Gosland, I would never lie." Jurnal smiled. Lars could tell he absolutely was however as he mentioned to him "If this all true, I don't think we could forgive some of these actions."

"I know, but I entrust that my brothers know perfectly well enough that further trouble awaits them if they follow my lead." Jurnal began to somewhat frown. "Ya folk aren't exactly trusting of us, but my brothers would love to help bridge that gap between ya folk and me folk. Though, I doubt i'd live to see it, eh?" Jurnal turned to Gosland, his smile returning. Gosland nodded "I am sorry than, Jurnal. I must sentence you to be hanged."

"Wait, please, me brother lies!" Bynard spoke up. "Jurnal, this ain't worth it, ya maggot head!"

"Oh nonsense!" Jurnal said playfully. Gosland raised an eyebrow and looked to Lars. Lars sighed and whispered to Gosland "Order his execution but delay it. Indefinitely till we get in contact with their parents. We'll keep them as prisoners for now." Gosland nodded and spoke up "Guards, return them to the stockade. Jurnal, I am sorry, but you cannot be allowed to live for everyone's sake. Me and Lars will discuss the date of your execution later."

Jurnal nodded "You have me full cooperation if ya just allow my naive, fool brothers to keep to themselves instead of toiling as serfbeasts, General Gosland."

The group left as Gosland looked to Lars. Lars was impressed as he spoke up to Gosland once they left. "You think they do actually come from a civilization across the sea?"

"I hope not, cause if we can't confirm it, than we'll be forced to kill him."

Lars nodded in agreement.
_

The sun beat down on Palewind as movement stirred and armor rattled, as the afternoon coolness was resisted by the swift movements of soldiers. The vast rows of tents of resting Southswarders were emptied as captains mustered their soldiers and lines were formed. The vast beating of the ground as soldiers marched in unison with their officers overlooking them, and intimidated newly christened serfs watched in both amazement and terror as the Southsward forces were nowly truly and finally off to war.

Frankfort stood at the far off entrance of Palewind, watching as Kelsum's forces were the first to appear. Lars and his Golden Regiment stood like statues as Frankfort kept up his chin. Kelsum led his forces out into the field, and was quickly followed by Nosbub, and then by Gosland. This vast military parade, watched on by the garrison in Palewind, were grateful they got to stay as the soldiers had to be extra formal in the presence of their prince. Frankfort cracked a rare smile to see the Southsward forces out and about, as their captains would simply stop suddenly their soldiers would follow. Such discipline excused the harsh treatment, as the stone faced soldiers awaited their lord's call.

Eskert came out next from the gates, with Loy and Borbon following closely behind. They felt a little awkward as they had to find a lane of soldiers to push through, and once they got to the front they were quickly coming up to Frankfort who was readying a grand speech. Kelsum, Nosbub, and Gosland all were on their toes as Frankfort boomed his voice at his army.

"Beasts of Southsward, friends of all goodbeasts! We are here today to march to war against the dreaded Gandal Blackfur and his army of evil vermin, and drive him and his horde from this land for good! Stand at attention and know your battle order! Just as we have discovered the nefariousness of our new foes, we cannot abandon our mission to free Mossflower from the tyranny of the vermin!"

The soldiers were ready, and no beast was happier than Loy and Borbon. Frankfort did a formal salute and turned, ready to march off, but before he can even take his first step, there was a yelp from the crowd.

"Prince Frankfort! Prince Frankfort!?"

Frankfort and the group turned to see an otter coming out of the crowd, bloodied and gasping a nasty wound on his chest. Frankfort snapped at some medics and he rushed over himself to realize it was one of his soldiers. The soldier nearly fell as a large group surrounded him. The soldier looked up, with a daze in his eyes.

Kelsum was the first to ask, being firm "Soldier, who has done this to you!?"

"Lon-Long Patrol, sir! The-they ambushed us, we fled to higher ground, we did!? We were overwhelmed! The Mossflower folk, from the nearby villages, they are revolting. Sir, the garrison commander sent me, but some bleeding hare got me good! There is an army out there!"

Frankfort paused as Borbon and Eskert looked at him expectantly. The squirrel prince knew why, and looked at them back. Borbon looked devastated, as even he didn't have the right answer to this.

"I-I am sorry, sir Borbon. These villages are too close to Palewind." Frankfort said under his breath. He got up and commanded his generals quickly before they could start an argument "Kelsum, Nosbub. Go and engage the main Long Patrol army, cut them off. Gosland, go around to the farther most garrison and entrap them. We'll fight them in pitched battle if we can force it."

"What about Gandal." Loy asked. Frankfort tried to explain "I am sorry Loy Watertrot, Gandal will have to wait for this, I cannot abandon my position and allow the Long Patrol to threaten our base of operations. I-"

"Prince Frankfort." Eskert said aloud "We know you need to defend your beasts, but we can't allow Gandal to get away with his evil much longer. Can you defeat the Long Patrol with a majority of your army? Let us take a few divisions, we'll destroy Gandal's horde with a smaller force."

Borbon was quick to agree "Aye, Gandul cun be beatun wit a furce under our commund, we cunnut let him gut awuy! I've leud beusts intu buttle."

Frankfort had to make that consideration mentally, and looked to Lars. Yet, Lars was giving a very nasty and hateful gaze at Nosbub whom seemed now embarrassed and worried. The Black Twitch knew that once this was all over, he would have to explain himself once Lars revealed his duplicity. Nosbub quickly spoke, needing to save face for a later day. "I won't need too many beasts myself to deal with these upstarts. My officers Murchan, Gythan, and Esmert will accompany you."

Frankfort also wanted to save face with his newfound champions "I promise, we'll deal with Gandal and Nurf. If we put down these traitors in a timely manner, we will rush to aid you right away!"

Borbon nodded, but mentally anguished. Esmert and Gythan were called to the front and were told the situation by their general, as the groups divisions quickly mustered to Eskert and Borbon. Esmert attempted to command them about in his usual way "Let us be done with this then, alright Loy, guide us to this little camp and-"

"Enough." Eskert spoke with authority in his tone, as he and Borbon watched Frankfort leave with his forces to head north. Borbon, with the aura of awkwardness leaving them, was furious. "All dut effurt em' wurds, an' we gut three score o' beasts."

"It'll be enough. We'll march to Gandal's camp, but we'll need to plan out our way there and-"

"You mean I'll plan it out." Esmert quickly retorted, but Eskert and Borbon gave him a dark stare and he quickly changed his mood "I will go out and make sure there aren't scouts or stragglers, we shall meet half way to Gandal's camp."

Where there were three divisions, Esmert began marching off in another direction. The group watched him leave, with Gythan visibly grunting at his leaving presence. The otter turned to Borbon next. "We still got those otter mercenaries inside Palewind, I'll send a runner back to grab them and we'll make our way to the camp's edge to scout it out if its viable to attack. If we can siege them down or bait them, we could probably cut them down with ease."

"Thut hedgehug is comun un buck, riught?" Borbon asked. Gythan shrugged "If he doesn't, we can personally chew him out if you so wish." Borbon nodded in agreement and finally the group marched out with their diminished forces. Yet despite this, Loy could see Eskert looked confident. Loy couldn't help but ask.

"We don't have a large force, Gandal's horde may not be the biggest, but I don't think we can engage them. You think we'll be able to beat him?"

"You worry not, the vermin aren't bright beasts Loy. We could likely defeat them with just ourselves. This just makes things easier." Eskert smiled to give Loy back some hope, and was relieved to see the otter smiled back.

---

Gandal heard a loud and satisfying crack as he awaited Tera to put on his armor. Gandal was feeling alive again, more so than he had felt in years as he drank his horrible smelling grog. Gandal felt Tera's weak paws around his waist, trying to put on his belt, but it felt a bit too loose for him. Gandal angrily turned and took Tera by her ear and pulled her forward to him, "Useless waste of a servant." He growled. Tera could barely look him in the eyes, her body bloodied and bruised from Gandal's treatment of her personally. A part of her ear was missing from the last time Gandal did this as he angrily pushed her aside and put on his belt himself.

Gandal twisted his head to the side, and another loud crack could be heard. His leg was feeling much better and he no longer needed to limp. Gandal couldn't help it as he affixed his black armor and put on its finishing touches. Gandal felt like he was still in his youth, the proud moment when Kasg gave him that beloved armor for himself, as Gandal angrily pounded his chest with his paw. Tera slowly got up as Gandal looked her up and down. He didn't really like this pathetic excuse for a squirrel, this wretched creature who could barely stand on her own two feet after a few slaps.

However, Gandal knew the truth as to why he didn't particularly like this servant.

It wasn't Loy.

When I find dat otter, I am goin to break him. I don't care what he does, I will find em an' make him suffer for each bleeden infraction. Lorgar may be dead, his missus too, but dat boy will be the outlet fer der suffering. Kasg, I will find em, an' I will make em be begging to swears onto ya. When all der whole of dis land be waven yer flag, me warlord, den I will be satisfied. Den I can rest. An all der slavebeasts who dared oppose you will be on der paws an knees when I build a big ol' statue where ya were unjustly felled.

Gandal growled "Get out." Tera tried to quickly leave, in silence to be preferable as Gandal put on his favorite helm. He walked out, with some of his hordebeasts watching him as he exited his tent. Once they saw him, the rumor of his passing was quickly put to rest. Gandal went down into the main vermin commons, with many quickly saluting him. His elderly Blackclads stood at attention, something which made the old captain turned warchief proud.

"Jano!" Gandal yelled. Jano meekly appeared before him, coming out from the backs of several Blackclads as he kept his distance, the cruel taskmaster keeping himself in running distance in case Gandal was angry with him.

"Speed up construction ya half wit, ya will get fresher paws soon enough. Now der rest of ya, listen up!" Gandal unsheathed his sword and hoisted it in the air. The vermin listened as Gandal slammed the end of his sword down into the ground and leaned upon it. "I ain't dead, an nor is Kasg! We are bleeden Black Clads! Ya were terrors in der north, an now ya will be terrors in der south! Who amongst ya stupid, ill bred lot be wit yer chief, eh!?"

There was a valiant roar of approval from the vermin, especially the old guard of Kasg's horde who pounded their breasts in respect to their fallen warlord. Jano had to turn his face to cringe, mouthing Gandal's word with a bit of hidden spite. Olan came forward, and bumped into the ferret who seemed less than pleased to see him. Olan however was even less patient, pushing aside Jano just enough to make him fall in the mud as he came forward to Gandal's side. Gandal turned to Olan and grunted "Der heck ya been, Olan?"

"Wit me missus." Olan whispered. Gandal rolled his eyes and knew what this meant. Olan looked refreshed as Gandal spoke aloud "Olan, gather der skirmishers, we make for der fortified settlements near der farther end of der forest near der inland lake. I want fresh paws worken on me fields and structures before winter preferably! We ain't done in Mossflower yet, far from it an-"

"Sir! Chief!" Gandal looked with furious eyes to see who dared would even consider interrupting him, as Olan recognized who it was. A fox came forward and went immediately to his knees, partly collapsed from exhaustion. Gandal wanted to smack him for the insolence, but Olan came forward and bent down "Alright Gobic, dis better be real good to interrupt der chief li-"

"Olan! Gandal, sir! Its der Long Patrol! I saws dem, an a bunch o' woodlanders! A lot of dem retreating across der hills! Into der forest!"

Gandal eyes lit up, pausing on his fury to listen "A bunch o'dem, looked like a rout I saws, but dey be headen in a few smaller numbers into der Inland lake! Towards a small clearing I thinks, Not enough to be der main force, but a sizable chunk!"

Olan and Gandal looked at each other, and both gave each other a sinister grin. Gandal boomed his voice "New plan! Der Long Patrol dink dey can outflank us! Olan! Grab der entire horde, we'll crush dis force ourselves! Hurry! Hurry!" Olan pushed and shoved vermin into lines as Jano slinked back further. Gandal went to the front gates, twiddling the sword in his paws. Fool hares makin a big mistake. Dividen der forces will cost dem dearly, an' so stupidly to be seen by me own sentries. No doubt dey are confident, but dey were like day before. Gandal was joined by Olan shortly there after, his paw shaking off dirt.

"Ya dink its some manner of trick, sir?"

"Maybe, but no trick will be good enough wit numbers on our side. We'll overrun an' kill all of dem, see if Numbat dares try to recover from dat! Might even get dat lazy badger lord to come down, den dats were der real fighting begins. If we could bait em into a bad siege, all der better."

Olan smiled to see his chief back to his good old mood as the army appeared behind him. Without even looking at them, he marched off, as Kasg's dark horde once again marched to war.
_

It was midafternoon when the sun seemingly was slowly reaching down as the vermin in Gandal's camp relaxed without their warlord around. It was an interesting time where the vermin families came out of their homes to do as they had always done; lived. As soldiers slinked towards open campfires, and captains bickered over their duties with one another, youngsters would creep out of tents and play in the now empty streets.

High above the horde, in the hills, Loy looked down with a nervousness at it all. It gave him pause to be back at the place he spent an entire season of torment. Memories of Jano's cruelties, random lashings, bowing his head to his family's murderer, all of it creeped back into his mind and he began to redden with barely contained fury. Loy looked at the pole he had once spent too many days outside of the camp, latched to it by ropes, empty as if awaiting him to join it once again. I'm going to make some nice javelins to stick Gandal out of that pole in particular.

Eskert could see Loy was breathing in and out with anxious impatience, and he patted the younger otter on his back, calming him somewhat. Borbon looked about, both in contempt and surprise as he looked down at the vermin camp.

"Gandul aun't here, must be ut raidun." Borbon guessed. Eskert looked about with a more secure mind, his troubles were more with Nurf than with Gandal, but like any vermin, he deserved to be put down like the rest. The group was joined by Gythan who knelt down in the brush, whispering to them.

"Scouts say they see a forestry with a bunch of captives working on it. Not a lot of beasts, but they work at the gates. Unless we came all this way to kill like five beasts, I doubt this Gandal is here."

"I mean, he probably knows Frankfort is here. Right?" Loy questioned himself, looking to Borbon for answers. The mole had none, as he tried to think of what this all meant. Gandal wasn't an idiot, he was a cruel, petty, and evil beast but he had some intelligence to him in some sense, but no the respectable kind. Borbon had to think, before coming up with what he believed might solve this mystery.

"I did hurt dat varmunt prutty hurd, prubably hunten me or raidun, but I wouldn't put it pust him. Doh, destroyun dus buse should tuke priority."

Gythan raised an eyebrow to this "Why? Gandal isn't here. If we destroy his base of operations, he will likely just move somewhere else where we can't find him."

"Nut just fur his suke, but durs." Borbon pointed to a small slave stockade in the middle of the camp, guarded by a few soldiers. Loy's eyes squinted with anger as he spoke up in agreement "Those are my friends down there suffering."

Gythan nodded "Fine, but we shouldn't just try to siege this place down, otherwise we'll be in a bad spot. If that rat is out and about, anything we do is overly risky."

Loy frowned, mostly because Gythan was right. He looked down continually at the vermin settlement as Gythan pointed out the gates. "However, you are right, Loy. We can't just let those poor beasts suffer down there while we have a chance to rescue them."

Borbon was about to speak up, but silenced himself when he looked at Loy. The otter was more than just anxious, his memories were pinching him. Borbon wanted Gandal dead, sure, but he didn't want Loy to think less of him for being pragmatic and wait for Gandal to reappear. Gythan continued "The main fort has two main entrances, the back and the front. Murchan will encamp near the front, make sure we entrap the main horde inside, while we attempt to assault the back. We will need to act and move very fast, or we won't get anywhere."

Eskert and Borbon nodded in agreement, as Loy perked up and spoke "Follow me, I know those beasts personally. They could probably help us get on in!"

Loy was about to rush off, but Gythan quickly pulled him back in "Hold on. We need to do this right, and do it well. My soldiers aren't used to fighting vermin, in fact, this is their first time. These aren't frogs and lizards. Murchan will provide a distraction, but once we get on in, we need to do several things at once. Borbon. Eskert. You will lead the main force in rounding up and putting down the stragglers, preferably the soldiers still in the camp. Loy. Can you rescue the slaves? I need my crossbowbeasts being able to fire without thinking they'll harm the prisoners."

Loy nodded happily, and the group led themselves off. Eskert spied on the village, pausing to thinking on his orders. There were younger voices behind those walls, and he was thinking one small problem.

What about those vermin broods.

Eskert shook the thought from his head as he made his way with Gythan's group down into the main forest on the eastern side. The group wasn't loud, but it was hard to fully hide their movements, which forced them to keep a wide berth of the main vermin fort. Murchan, informed via only a courier, was already marching out into the main hills. Gythan and his group got into a comfortable position, spying on the eastern gate, where various miserable slave beasts were chopping at wood. Loy scanned the group for one beast in particular, Jano Whiplash. When Loy couldn't spot him, he tried listening for a crack of a whip, but none could be heard.

Jano however was very much nearby, but not in his usual mood as he meandered near the eastern gate, his eyes set on Mela and Tera. Mela and Tera were gathering up wood into piles, exhausted as they were as the mouse and squirrel kept an eye on Jano from afar. The ferret was fuming, but Mela was confused as to why he didn't react when they thought they had slowed their work.

"Jano seems. Calmer." Mela whispered to Tera. The bruised squirrel nodded, although she cringed in pain. Mela frowned as Tera paused briefly to collect herself. "To think I'd prefer his watchful eye than Gandal's." Tera admitted. Mela nodded in agreement, noticing her friend's suffering. Jano looked like he was about to head on over when he noticed them slowing, but one of the Black Clad weasels near them was giving him a venomous eye. Tera and Mela didn't know, but Olan was not a beast you didn't expect to not keep his word. Jano knew that if he started killing slaves left and right for his own perverse pleasure, Olan would likely step aside and let Gandal strangle him to death.

Jano instead yelled at them harshly "Get yer backs into it, ya two! Go an' start pulling dem logs from der forest! We got a larger slave pen to build ya know! Silos too!"

The two did as bidded and moved towards the forest. Jano gripped his paw on his whip harshly, as he looked at the black clad lazily keeping an eye more on him than the slaves. Jano came over, angry at him "Well? Keep an eye on dem, der ain't a lot of ya here!"

The black clad smiled grimly, and then lightly tapped Jano, sending him flying to the ground. Jano growled at him "Gandal has me in charge, ya bleeding imb-"

"Gandal says yer in charge, but of dem thralls and stupid mossflower cretans, not us."

Jano silenced himself as the weasel in his proud black armor storde off to look over the work of others. Jano wanted to desperately teach such a proud lesser creature a lesson, but he knew Olan or Gandal would likely just kill him if he dared try. Jano stood up and dusted the dirt off himself and put his back against the wall, malding over his troubles. Had he'd more observant, he would have noticed the bushes moving towards Mela and Tera.

Mela had not noticed either, which was when she nearly jumped in horrible fright when she heard Loy whisper to her and Tera once he and Eskert snuck up close enough. "Oy, Mela."

"L-loy?!" Mela turned to the bushes with fright at first, fearful her friend would have been stupid enough to return to this terrible place, but when Loy lightly pushed himself above the bushes, his eyes keeping on one of the vermin guards who were distracted for now. Loy's new garb of a light yellow did not match well at all, and Mela quickly put her paws on Loy and pushed him back into the bushes.

Mela whispered, and quickly went to pretend bending down to collect sticks, keeping her eye on the vermin guards as well who weren't too concerned with her. "Sorry, Mela." Loy apologized. "Though, I did bring friends."

"Friends?" Mela asked, as Eskert revealed himself next. The mouse smiled and spoke in a silent manner "Friends indeed, a small army in fact. We are here to help."

"Oh seasons." Tera said, as she crept closer to them, noticing them at long last. Loy smiled happily as he pointed to the gates "We need help, Gandal isn't inside is he?"

"Nay." Mela shook her head "He and his army went out westward I think, its hard to tell."

Eskert nodded "Can you help us get inside?"

Tera and Mela looked at one another before responding "Yes, but give us a small amount of time."
_

Jano leaned against the walls outside of Gandal's camp as he moped, looking as Mela and Tera approached the gate with a log. Jano raised an eyebrow to this, as it was abnormal for slaves to not be bringing the logs to their already established pile. He smiled to himself at the thought of catching them in some incompetent act so he could use he favorite whip. Jano was approaching when Mela and Tera put the log on the ground just between the opened vermin gates, and began to rest on it.

Jano paused, finding this odd mostly because of how stupid it was. He went over as Mela and Tera were quick to spot him as he angrily yelled at them "Hey! Remove this from the gate's walls, ya idiot layabouts! Come now, get to it!"

Yet, Tera and Mela didn't move, and spoke with a more authoritative voice that Jano was certainly not used to.

"Sorry, sir. Were a bit tired, give us but a moment."

Jano growled, wanting to scratch at Mela in particular, but stopped when he heard movement. Jano looked into the forest, when a hedgehog first appeared, a strange and well armored beast with a crossbow and large tower shield. He had metal armor and lined with a gilded yellow. He aimed down his crossbow not at him, but at one of the guards nearby who was caught off guard. Jano began to retreat naturally into the settlement as the hedgehog shot into the black clad soldier, piercing his armor as he doubled over in pain and died quickly.

Jano watched as all manner of woodlanders in black and yellow bursted from cover and began to run on in, wielding pike and halberd, as a small volley was launched at one of the nearby watch towers which wasn't able to sound the alarm in time. Jano continued to back out, as quick thinking hordebeasts realized what was going on and tried to close the door, only for the gates to get stuck on the log Mela and Tera had planted in their way. A large otter with a sword came through, killing those unfortunate enough to try to resist their breach into the camp, as Jano began to run.

"Out of my way! Out of my way!" Jano pushed aside vermin as sounds of battle began to ring out. Vermin soldiers rushed to the gates as Jano ran to the other side. Something thudded against the ground to his right, which he turned to see a big javelin sticking out. He turned around to see Loy himself was chasing him.

Loy took up his downed Javilen as he pursued Jano through the vermin camp, only to stop when Jano fled between two hordebeasts coming to greet the interlopers. Loy angrily scowled at them, and attacked them with a viciousness as Jano continued to get away. It didn't take long for Eskert and Borbon to catch up, helping Loy put them down as Loy continued on only to see Jano scrambling towards the front gate.

"Open the gates ya idiots! Open it!" Jano commanded. The vermin did so as Jano watched Loy and his friends get closer, their control over the camp increasing. The vermin opened the gates only to immediately regret their mistake as more Southswarders approached from the hills and were already halfway towards the gate. Jano angrily cursed himself as he lept away from the gates and continued towards the outer wall. Jano began to scramble up the walls as Loy threw another javelin. The thud hit Jano's right paw as the ferret screamed in pain, but he pulled the javelin out and quickly began to make his way down the walls by jumping to his safety.

"No!" Loy angrily shouted, as he watched the place where Jano lept. Loy was dismayed to see the ferret escape. Loy turned back to the camp, and he to pause, thinking over what he had to do and rushed out to help the other woodlander slaves find their freedom.

Eskert and Borbon continued their attack in Gandal's camp as the Southward soldiers cheered their luck as they rushed in all around them. Borbon watched as Loy rushed about towards the slave pens, while he and Eskert took the fight to the vermin soldiers who dared tried to resist them. Borbon and Eskert slew vermin left and right, blood began to pool towards the ground in greater quantities as the attack continued. Chaos rained in the camp as some tried to escape the carnage, only to find themselves killed by Gythan or his soldiers.

Borbon continued to kill his way across the camp, pulling black clads trying to scurry to their tents, dragging them out and smashing them with his hammer. The Southsward soldiers were quick and efficient, their strikes rang true on vermin who rushed out in desperate defense, only to be cut down by bolt or pike. The two captains of Southsward came up into the middle, awaiting for Loy to rescue and shepherd the beasts out from the pen before firing a devastating volley into regrouping vermin. The very walls of Gandal's fort became a choke point as soldiers desperately tried to climb out as Jano had done, but without much command, their resistance was worthless.

Borbon killed and slaughtered his way across the camp till he stopped, spotting Eskert with his bloodied blade looking down a row of tents. Borbon approached and in that distance, a group of vermin children and their parents held each other closely, with one rat in particular blocking them. It was an older rat, the torch bearer of the horde who held out his paws to him. Biech knew the horde was done, but he could see something others could not, as Eskert looked down at him with some hollow intent.

"Eskurt." Borbon said softly as he approached. Eskert continued to stare at them, his eyes revealing a dark thought as he looked slowly to Borbon.

"We can't bring them with us." Eskert said. Borbon looked them down, with similar shallow hate for them. These sons and daughters of murderers and slavers, who dared swear upon that wretch Gandal and his horde. Borbon held his warhammer in paw as Biech angrily spoke out.

"Tis not worth it, we surrender." He begged. One of the rat youngsters looked on in fright as he was held firmly by his mother. Eskert and Borbon looked at one another, took their weapons in paw, and advanced upon them.
_

Loy rushed into the stockade, much to the surprise of the curious eyed woodlanders who looked up at him, as Loy gave a big smile "Hurry up! We need to leave!" He shouted, as he brought up beasts old and young. Loy felt a rush of joy as he helped the group of distressed and tired beasts out of the pens and towards the gates. They paused only when they saw fighting in front of them, but it was over rather quickly as the main Southsward force overwhelmed them. Loy was joined by a joyous Mela and Tera who helped him collect the slaves across the camp. Loy looked around for one beast in particular, but he couldn't find him, as they left through the main gate and continued onward into the hills.

Loy stopped and looked around as the cries of battle began to dim, and the Southsward forces began their next phase of work. Otters and hares pulled hooked ropes onto walls and began to pull them apart, tents were ravaged and dismantled, and a fire was put to the old armory. Loy could not have imagined such a good site as Tera rushed up to him and hugged him deeply, overjoyed by his presence.

"Oh bleeding seasons, you fruity water dog!" Tera exclaimed, nearly weeping as she fell into Loy's arms. Loy could tell she was distressed as he could feel her horribly bruises. He accidentally pinched one, and she cringed, and he lightly let go of her. Loy looked a bit saddened by her state "Oh seasons indeed! Tera, you are hurt. I tried to go after Jano, an-"

"Twasn't Jano." Mela exclaimed in disgust "You can blame that evil creature Gandal for it. Loy, who are these folk? How did you-"

Loy this time interrupted her, mesmerizing them all on his adventures and his friends. The group listened to Loy's mostly exaggerated tales as they watched Gandal's terrible empire burn away, hopefully forever.

Loy did leave a few things out, not sure if they were all ready to hear it, but he believed they would come to understand in time. Loy frowned at being dishonest in this way, but it was hard to tell them that the Long Patrol would have abandoned them, and now they were as much an enemy as Gandal was.

Loy addressed the crowd "We will go to Palewind soon, and drop you all off to find rest, much needed as it is! I wished I had only come sooner, and I wish. . .I wish. . ." Loy had to pause, sniffing as Mela could tell what Loy wanted to say. Mela comforted him "Glain would have been proud, Loy."

"I know." Loy's frown deepened and then curled into an angry scowl "When we find Jano, Gandal, and the whole lot of them, we'll avenge him. We'll avenge all the good beasts of Mossflower, we'll avenge me mum. Me pa."

Mela and Tera smiled, as the other slaves continued to prod and ask questions. As they did however, Gythan was coming up the hill with Eskert and Borbon. Gythan was giving them a bad look, as Eskert wiped blood from his blade. Gythan looked like he had just spent the last few minutes chewing them both out, but they seemed to ignore it entirely. Borbon whispered to Gythan "Nut infrunt of Luy. Pleuse."

Gythan whispered back "Fine, but you will explain this to him at some point, I won't."

Loy looked around at the group as Gythan looked at the unfortunate slave beasts with pity. He would not have been angry at Eskert or Borbon if they held such anger and hate towards soldiers, not those they had just murdered. The cries of the vermin began to calm down as the settlement was slowly dismantled piece by piece.

"Loy, we must leave. To the rest of you, we can escort you to Palewind where we can bring you back to your homes and families. Although if you wish to go out on your own, I cannot promise you much protection."

"Aren't we going to ambush Gandal when he gets back?" Loy asked. Borbon grunted and looked at Gythan who explained the best way he could "Esmert was suppose to be here by now, unless he went off to do something else, and if that is the case I will be making him personally explain this to me, Nosbub, and Frankfort. However, Esmert's division had elite soldiers we needed if we wanted to ambush this vermin horde right, and that isn't a guarantee they will even show back up. If we engage this vermin horde, judging by the number of tents here, we will assuredly lose."

Loy grunted "What about the vermin families? There was an older rat, one named Biech, little more than a slave himself. I don't want even that vermin to suffer under Gandal."

Gythan breathed in and out, as he turned to Eskert and Borbon. Eskert came forward, smiling to him "I am afraid we had to allow them to escape, Loy. They'll likely make their way east, like all vermin do, where they can live peacefully."

Loy frowned, not sure if he believed Eskert, and if he was lying, Loy would have gotten extremely upset. Yet, Borbon came up and confirmed it "Aye, dun varmunts wunt eastwurd, you'll see um pust dur trees." Borbon pointed to an empty tree line, which Loy squinted at, but couldn't see anything. He shrugged, and figured he had missed them. Gythan frowned a bit as Mela spoke up.

"I will go out on my own, I got family I wished to return to right away. I wanted to get my father warning of Gandal at least. I'll meet you back in Palewind. Loy." Mela came over and hugged Loy deeply and Loy hugged back with equal love. Loy looked to Gythan "We will get Gandal. Won't we?"

"Once we get reinforcements, he is as good as dead." Gythan reaffirmed. Borbon took Loy in paw and help him lead the group of now freed slaves as the Southsward forces began forming lines. Eskert stood on the hill, overlooking the dead settlement as Gythan spoke up to him once Loy was out of range of their words.

"If Lars or Frankfort, or really anyone else, ever finds out. I cannot protect you."

"Trust me." Eskert said with a disturbing cheery voice "If they find out, they will be thanking me. This is our land, otter. Not theirs. Martin commands me to put the sword to them, and that is exactly what I will do." Eskert turned and marched out to help Loy and Borbon as Mela went her own way, knowing where she wanted to go. Gythan sighed, rejoining his division with good order as they left the smoldering shallow graveyard behind them.
_

Gandal and his horde marched in six groups, each which intermingled poorly with one another, except for one which marched professionally. Gandal and his forces marched towards the forest as he looked up at the sky. He spotted some smoke, and believed some hamlet was nearby. He scoffed and continued on his dark march, his vermin heading towards this Long patrol force mustering in the forest. He relished the thought of seeing those fool hares relaxing and planning out his demise, only for him to crush their pathetic force with numbers and raw might. As he marched, he approached the end of a hill and were marching downward, and continued on with a slow pace. He didn't want his soldiers to be exhausted, as battle would likely ring out in due time.

Gandal looked up at the hill and stopped, raising his paw quickly as his vermin horde stopped with him. Gandal squinted at the upper hill as he saw hares coming in a small wave from it. A number of other woodlanders were coming down the hill as well as Gandal was joined by Olan, watching this show unfold. The hares stopped themselves, a distance away from him as Gandal watched them.

Were they attacken me? Gandal wasn't sure if this was some sort of strange trick, but the hares turned around to see one limping behind. Gandal's eyes flared up when he saw their jackets, the red and white vests of the Long Patrol, and one was a sniper. He drew his sword and hid towards the back of his shieldbeasts as the Long Patrol looked between him and the upper hill.

The limping hare shouted at his fellow hares "Get away, lads! Get aw-" He was silenced when a bolt hit him in the back and he tumbled forward, laying motionless on the ground. A mouse came behind him, younger looking but a militia member, trying to get away. He turned to fight his pursuer, but Gandal's eyes went open when he saw the strangest thing.

A hedgehog in yellow armor came up and gored him in the chest with a pike. The mouse fell over dead as he was follow by an otter trying to get away, only for a pike to pierce him as well.

The two Long Patrol hares looked at one another, knowing they couldn't do much. Daen's rebellions failed horribly, as Frankfort crushed the rebel army which arose to challenge him. Angry fathers and mothers joined forces with a confident Long Patrol captain to try to retreat into the inland lake, but ended up fighting Frankfort's garrisons instead. The Long Patrol and their allies were retreating, but Frankfort's army was far too quick and far more organized, crushing the army brutally in several quick engagements. They themselves were lucky to escape the massacre, but now they were facing down the last beast they wished to see. They bolted towards the woods, and quickly disappeared.

The Southsward force was marching in full force as Gandal wasn't sure what to think, as Olan had to shake him. "Did dem woodlanders just kill other woodlanders, or am I blind, sir?"

Gandal growled, as the Southwarders paused, chasing the Long Patrol a small distance before looking at them. Gandal's army was sizable, but also scattered about a bit. It was then a silly looking hedgehog in a big golden collar and the most ridiculous boots Gandal or Olan had ever seen came up from the hill with a sizable host at his back. Esmert looked down and quickly shouted at his soldiers "Form up! The vermin attack! Form up!"

Gandal heard the words clearly as he shouted orders as well "Skirmishers to der front, Olan ya keep a group back! With me! Cull an' Kill!"

Gandal's army began to make movements in a slow and unsure pace, as Esmert's soldiers formed up quickly and advanced. The woodlanders felt less conflicted as they advanced on Gandal. Esmert had three lines with him, and a small row of crossbowbeasts at his back. Gandal was worried only somewhat by this, he could deal with armored beasts, but what confused him were that these strange yellow clad beasts brought up weapons he wasn't all that familiar with. He knew hares sometimes used crossbows, but not in these numbers, and certainly not with big rectangle shields. These soldiers came quickly to the front and planted their shields into the ground as Gandal's own archers and spear throwers came to his front and the two began to skirmish.

It was a one sided slaughter.

The vermin threw javelins and pulled back on their bows to unleash a small trickle of missiles onto their foe, but it clanged against the shields which the woodlanders balanced their own weapons on. Gandal looked on in horrible fright as with a single volley, his first line of skirmishers were downed, and those who were unlucky enough to survive the first wave were cut down by the second. They would have nearly routed had not Gandal been behind them as his own vermin advanced.

Esmert looked on, confident in his odds now as the vermin advanced. If Shackleford was right, the vermin tactics would be predictable and archaic, with a mass of soldiers jointly pushing in large numbers. Esmert had fewer soldiers, but he angrily spoke up "Pike forward! Infantry to the sides!" The Southsward forces did as commanded as they snapped into a new formation and charged.

Gandal's skimrishers ran in fright behind the enemy line as the crossbowbeasts rained down a volley on Gandal's beasts next, but were surprised when they snapped up shields and took cover in quick succession. Gandal drew his blade and led the charge personally into the main enemy force, as pike launched into the bellies of vermin, and axes and sword were brought down on Southsward faces. The two forces pushed back and forth on one another, neither able to make much ground, but the side forces of the Southsward infantry slowly bent the less confident hordebeasts backward.

Olan could see the writing on the wall, turning to his own soldiers and yelling at them "Your chief, Kasg's captain, be in danger ya halfwits! With me!" Olan led his force in a wide berth around the main battlefield and towards the flank. He expected a battle to contest this, but was almost paused when Esmert did not even seem to notice. Olan was almost tempted to stop, as surely these Southsward forces would have noticed, but the main force was focused on Gandal's elite force which held their own. In fact, some of Esmert's beasts were retreating.

Esmert's eyes widened and unfurled his whip, cracking it into the air "Back you cowards! Back into the fighting we almost have them!" Yet they didn't listen. As it became clear the fighting was not going their way, the forces slowly began to retreat as braver beasts were killed. Then Olan came in from the side, crashing into the line of Esmert's crossbowbeasts and began to massacre them. Once Esmert saw this, he silently turned and began to ran, his officers blowing a horn of retreat.

Gandal and Olan routed the force, butchering whom they could get their paws on, and killing others. Gandal watched as the Southsward force, once seemingly confident, began to abandon their weapons to make greater pace back towards Palewind. Gandal stopped as his forces crested the hill, seeing Esmert not even regroup with his forces as he rushed back towards the southwest.

Gandal huffed, gripping a new wound on his face and growled angrily. He spat blood and looked to Olan who was shaking off blood from his sword "Der hell, Olan. Dem ain't Long Patrol, nor militia. Mossflower beasts of some kind?"

"Nay, can't be. Dey were killen woodlanders is what I be more worried about. Though, dey were chasen dem Long Patrol, sir."

Gandal cringed, wondering if he possibly killed potential allies in his fight against the Long Patrol, but that certainly couldn't be the case. Woodlanders didn't kill woodlanders, it was so absurdly rare. Gandal kicked the body of one of the militia beasts over, dead as he was. "Can't even interrogate dem. Doh, if dem-" Gandal as he noticed Olan looking back towards their camp. Gandal shut himself up as he looked to the sky, noticing the smoke of a far off village on fire, and then towards the direction of his camp, with a smoke stack slowly arising from it. Gandal quickly spoke "Back to the camp! Back to the camp now!"
_

There were few things that could give a Black Clad captain such as himself pause. Kasg's terrible reign in the northern highlands showed him much, and he learned much from Kasg. He watched his lord and master do things no other beast could do, the massacres he committed in his name, the butchery he caused without a second thought. Yet this was different somehow, so minor when done against him, it gave him a terrible weazy feeling as his army returned to their burned out camp.

Gandal stood on a hill as his horde went in and out of their old camp, partly torn down, partly on fire. The base could not be recovered as supplies were burned away and his favorite tent torn down his things strewn about. The horde picked up trash of their belonging from the Southsward attack. Gandal could recover from such losses, he recovered from far worse when Kasg was killed, yet of the beasts near him, he kept himself silent as he looked down at Olan, sitting down and playing with something in his paw.

It was a small thing, a doll depicting a rat, a button missing from one of its eyes. It was old and worn, a trinket Olan had gotten a long time ago. Yet, the captain looked down at this little doll longingly, and with a hollowness to his eyes.

They had done terrible things to many good beasts, but it felt like a different kick to the jaw with the way it was done to them. It wasn't hard to find out who had done this, with the Southsward forces having taken one or two casualties who had fallen in some corner not far off, not collected by their comrades.

"Olan." Gandal said, meekly at first. It was the softest voice he could use, but Olan didn't even look up. He held that small doll in his paws, gripping it as his face began to slowly redden.

"Olan." Gandal said more firmly. Olan slowly looked to his chief, unable to even speak as Gandal looked down with a rare spout of pity. Gandal could barely believe it, as his soldiers looked about, burying whom they could. "Gather the troops. We move out in der hour."

Olan slowly nodded "Dey'll be back ya think den?"

"Aye, in larger numbers no doubt. Dat force was small, ill prepared."

Olan looked back at the doll and looked on at the fort. Gandal cringed and came over, angrily getting his captain on his feet as he spoke with anger creasing his voice "Olan, ya halfwitted fool. Dey'r gone. Moping about dem won't bring dem back! Gather me troops, we march out northwest, we'll sneak along the tree front."

Olan blinked and spoke up "Chief, ya goin after dem? Not on me sakes, I hope."

"Yer sakes?" Gandal gripped his shoulder in a threatening manner, but the dark rat softened "Yers is not der only kin dey slaughtered here. Dem tracks head towards Palewind. If dey dink Kasg's horde is out of dis fight cause dey did us dirty, den we'll do far worse to dat lot. We'll make dem dink we be the devil himself commen to burn dem out. Olan, I command ya to grab me vermin an bring em into line."

Olan looked down at his doll, but Gandal ripped it from his paws "Your chief gave ya an order, an ya will respect it like if I were Kasg dammit! Ya dink Kasg would want us waiten for dem to come an' kill us, Olan!? Get me vermin into marching order, or I'll find meself a new bleeding captain, ya hear!" Gandal's voice shook him, as Olan began to smile. Olan stood at attention as Gandal handed the doll back to him "Ya got a few minutes to bury em'. He would have made a fine black clad an' loyal member of Kasg's horde, Olan. Do em' proud. For him, an' for Kasg."

"Yes, sir." Olan nodded. He turned, shoving the doll into his belt as he yelled at the vermin "Form up in moments! Find what ya can, burn der rest! Shovels. Get me shovels!"

Gandal watched as Olan went down into the crowd as the vengeful and angry vermin stirred. The older black clads had been binded to their lord for strength and title, now they were bound by fury and revenge. Gandal looked out over his dead camp, his paw gripped at his blade.

I'll find em, I'll find em and rip their eyes from der socket, der guts from der chests, an' any ding else I can grab onto. I'll make our purges in der north look like charity compared to what I will do to de's yella cretans. Der black banner will fly over all of Mossflower, and will rue der day dey did this to us.